Trainspotting
by Elle Wednesday
Summary: It's the same old story, a fight for love and glory, boy meets girl boy falls in love. But old stories like that never did work out so well, and when Roy leaves the Titans to chase after Cheshire, his desire for a fairy-tale romance gets him lost in a world of shadows and dust and crime, so deep he might not be able to get out again. Do you know the way to Santa Fe? Speedy-Cheshire
1. HeroHeroine

**Trainspotting**

Hero/Heroine

_Roy_

I flick open my lighter and hold the flame to the edge of my cigarette. If Ollie knew that I'm still smoking, he'd have my head. Or he'd tell Dinah to have it for him. However he's feeling about me this week.

I take a drag, blow out and watch the puff of smoke swirl past my face. I take another drag, but I inhale too deep. The air tastes like dirt as it fills my mouth and feels like sandpaper scraping against the inside of my throat. I cough, and it's like my chest has needles in it. God, I hate these things. Wish I could quit.

But I know I'd go crazy if I tried to.

God, I want a fix. Smoking is the only thing that keeps me off the harder stuff. The only thing stopping my body from losing it. Tried to quit once and the withdrawal was so bad I nearly had a full-on relapse. I need these damn cigarettes.

They can't help my head though. Smoking can't get me high. Smoking can't help me forget.

And, shit, the things I'd do to forget right now.

To forget about her.

For the last three months, I have been looking for her, and I have found nothing. No leads, no contacts. Nothing.

Nothing that could get me closer to her.

I don't know why I'm even looking for her. She's just some girl. Some _villain_. But ever since that day she fought me, I swear, I've seen her every time I close my eyes.

I don't even know what her face looks like.

But she's gorgeous. In my head, anyway.

After three months, I have finally heard from someone who claims to know where she is. Some girl got a hold of my email address and said she'd heard about me. About who I'm looking for, how I've been going around the world, country to country, city to city, finding any villain I can and hounding them for information. She said she'd heard that I haven't been fighting any of them or turning them in. Just taking whatever info I can and then disappearing, quick as I came.

This girl says she knows all about me and that she wants to meet me. I was in Gotham City when I got her email. She asked how fast I could get to Phoenix.

I took the next plane.

I'm starting to wonder why I even bothered, though. I take another drag from my cigarette. This girl said she'd meet me here, in some alley behind Phoenix Sky Harbor International, at four am, today. It's five. Starting to seem like I came all this way for nothing.

Maybe I ougtha bolt out of here, anyway. This could be a hoax, or worse, some kind of attack. Titans or no Titans, I'm still a respected superhero. There are loads of people out there who'd love to off me, and if word spreads among supervillains anywhere near as fast as Ollie likes to say it does, they all know I left the Titans by now. They all know I've been wandering around the goddamn world looking for...

Why do I even care?

Why does it even matter if I find her?

I see a figure skulking across the sidewalk. She walks slowly, placing one foot directly ahead of the other, heel-toe, with each step. I hold my cigarette between my teeth and raise my hand to signal her. She must be my contact. She better be. Otherwise I'm screwing myself by acknowledging her.

Not that I'm not already screwing myself just by doing this.

"Are you Speedy?" the girl asks, as soon as she's close enough for me to hear her. I notice that she's tiny, maybe four-foot-eight but even that seems like a stretch. The mutilated denim jacket she's wearing seems to big for her shoulders, and her unevenly chopped brown hair seems to dark for her face. She can't be older than thirteen.

"That's me," I say. "And you are?" I can't believe this. How can a freaking kid possibly be my contact?

She bites her bottom lip. "I'm... I'm Bullet," she answers cautiously. Maybe I shouldn't be talking to her. This could get me in so much trouble. But I don't have much of a choice. She's the only in I've got.

"So," Bullet continues, in a frail, high voice. She looks thirteen, but she doesn't sound a day over eleven. "I hear you're looking for Cheshire."

Just her name sends shivers down my spine.

"What's it to you?" I ask. I take a puff on my cigarette and blow the smoke in Bullet's face. She coughs weakly.

"Well, I know where she is," she says.

"Great," I reply. "You gonna tell me?"

She folds her arms against her chest. "What's in it for me?" she asks. It is a question much too big for her voice. Her brown eyes go wide. I think she knows how dumb she sounds.

"I mean," she adds nervously, "I don't know if I can trust you." She twists a lock of hair around her finger. "You're with the Teen Titans."

"Used to be," I correct. "I quit."

More like left without a word.

Bullet wrings her hands together. "I just don't know if I can trust you," she says again.

I take a drag on my cigarette, exhale a puff of dirty air. She eyes the smoke. I pull my pack out from my pocket.

"You want one?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I don't smoke," she says, quietly, but her eyes linger on the cigarette in my hand, almost hungrily, like she'd give anything, try anything, just to feel less empty.

Well, that's how it feels for me, anyway.

"Do you eat?" I ask her. She bobs her head, slow, confused. "If I treat you to lunch," I continue, "will you tell me where Cheshire is?"

Cheshire.

The word feels funny against my tongue. Hot. Sweet.

I have a lot of fantasies about her and in every single one, her lips taste just like that.

And I know, I think I've always known, that that's why I care.

I think maybe I'm in love with her.

Which is crazy. Is so, so crazy. I don't even know her.

But I can't forget about her. And I know that she can do better. Than being a villain. I mean, it worked for Kid Flash, right? He trusted this... This instinct or whatever it is and...

I have to find her.

I have to...

I swear, this is a little like the first time I did heroin. All of a sudden, it was everything.

I barely even notice when Bullet nods vigorously. I take another puff on my cigarette and watch the smoke as it billows through the air.

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"So how do you know her?" I ask.

Bullet, seated across from me at the tiny diner I found, peers out from over the top of her chocolate malt. The glass is bigger than her head, or it seems like it, anyway.

She takes a huge bite of her burger. I can't believe her tiny mouth can hold that much food. My own burger sits untouched on the plate in front of me.

"We've worked together," Bullet answers, her mouth full of food.

"Sure," I snort. She can't really expect me to believe that. A kid. A scrawny little like her has worked with a high-profile villain? Sure.

Then again, I shouldn't talk. I know what kids are capable of. First hand.

"I have," she says defiantly. "We're part of the same crime ring."

"And what crime ring is that?" I ask. What crime ring would be stupid enough to send a thirteen year old as a messenger?

She gulps. "I'm not supposed to tell you that," she says quietly, twisting her last french fry around itself until it snaps in half.

"And yet you're supposed to tell me where she is?" I counter. She presses her lips together.

"That what my boss said."

Her boss, clearly, is an idiot.

Bullet plays with her straw, swirling it around the inside of her glass. "Are you gonna eat those?" she asks meekly, pointing at my full plate of fries. I push them towards her.

"Take them," I say. She sweeps the fries onto her plate and drowns them in ketchup. I wonder when the last time she ate was.

"So where is she?" I ask. No reason to keep putting it off.

Bullet digs the stub of a green crayon out of the plastic cup in the table top. She takes a napkin from the metal dispenser and writes on it. Her hands leave streaks of grease and food.

"Here," she says. She hands me the napkin. It has an address written on, some place in Santa Fe. The ketchup stains look like blood.

I've never even been to Santa Fe. I don't know where this is. "You wanna show me how to get there?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not supposed to." Of course. I'm supposed to go alone.

Her boss is either an idiot or an absolute genius.

He knows who I'm looking for. And he knows I'll go to this place, even if its a trap, as long as it means I have a chance of finding her. And once I'm there he can attack me, torture me, get whatever information he wants, even kill me.

I shouldn't go. It's not safe.

But I'm in way too deep.

The first thing they teach you in rehab is that addiction is a chronic disease. What they mean is that, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to kick this for good. There is no such thing as a "recovered" addict. I am _recovering_. For life.

I can't save myself from this.

Maybe that's why I need to save her.

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Next thing I know, I'm on a train to Santa Fe.

I'm from Arizona. Lived here 'till Ollie took me in.

Clearly, leaving home is something of a pattern of mine.

_It's too late baby, there's no turning around_

_I've got my hands in my pocket and my head in a cloud_

_This is how I do_

_When I think about you_

* * *

Author's Notes:

Hello, everyone. For those of you who haven't read any of my works before, I'm Elle. Nice to meet you. For those of who have read my other stories, its great to see you again!

So this is _Trainspotting_, my SpeedyxCheshire story. It's a "spin-off" of _Breaking Free_, but you don't need to read _Breaking Free_ to understand it. I'll make sure to explain anything relevant that happened (for example, the details and aftermath of Speedy leaving the Titans was a major part of the plot of _BF_. I'll explain them later in this story. I felt like leaving them ambiguous at first helped the story stand alone better.) The story begins about four months after the end of season 5. (For those of you who have read _BF_, this story begins about three months after Speedy left.)

I'm really psyched about this story. This chapter was so much fun to write because Roy has a really interesting perspective. He's _obsessed_ with saving Jade from a life of villainy, or whatever. That level of obsession is not too good for his, well, mental stability. (He and Jade will switch off narrating, by the way.) A quick note about Roy, he's a recovering heroin addict in the comics. I'll get into detail on his addiction later in the story, but just so you know, I'm writing this so that Roy's addiction happened before he joined the Teen Titans.

That's all for now. Hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter.

Chapter title and lyrics from Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls. I just couldn't resist the double entendre of that. The title of the story is blantantly stolen (I mean, um, a homage to?) the book and movie _Trainspotting_. Which is about heroin.

Thanks to my brother for editing.


	2. Dirrty

Dirrty

_Jade_

The truth is, I have done things that are a hell of a lot worse than this.

I turn the water in the shower up as hot as it goes. It's scorching against my skin. I feel a sharp sting and when I glance down I notice the huge scratch across my leg. Crap. I don't even know when I got that one.

I can still smell this guy's breath on my skin, booze and sherry vinegar. Still feel his tongue in my mouth.

It's not like I haven't done this before. This is my job. And it's not like I have to kill him. Just get them eating out of the palm of my hand then let someone else do the rest.

God, I feel so dirty.

I squeeze out a handful of shampoo. It takes half the bottle to wash my hair just once, but at least I like the scent. Roses and lilacs and lavender. Usually it makes me fell better. Right now I just feel like I'm trying too hard.

I step out of the shower, wring my hair out with my towel, and then let it hang, limp and heavy, dead weight pulling me down as it tumbles past my feet. I don't know why I don't just get it cut.

I slip into my green silk robe and stare at myself in the mirror. That's three guys this week. This last one was the hardest to seduce. Had to get him drunk and then sleep with him before he'd do anything I asked. He should be headed to the address I gave him right about now. Pretty soon, somebody else will be… Taking care of him.

I don't even know what I'm doing this for. This mission is so… I don't know. I don't know anything about it. I need the cash, though. I need it so bad.

I leave the bathroom and head into the kitchen. My apartment's pretty small, but it's decent enough and they promised to pay for it as long as I'm working for them. I fill my teakettle with water, set it on the stove and then turn the flame on, before I turn away and walk into the living room.

Maybe I should watch TV. Maybe it would help to… Distract myself. I never seem to know what to do when I'm off duty.

They call me Cheshire for a reason. Behind the grin, the mask, there is absolutely nothing.

The front door opens.

I thought I locked that door. And even if I had, who could that possibly be?  
Why would anyone be coming here? Did someone… Did someone figure out I live here? The police or a hero or another villain, a more powerful one? I jump to my feet and take a fighting stance.

I'm not wearing my claws.

I'm not wearing my mask.

Oh, God.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want with me?" I demand. I shut my eyes tight as someone walks through the door. Just in case.

"Easy, Cheshire" I hear someone say. A guy. I don't recognize his voice. I don't know how he knows who I am. "I just… I just want to help."

Help with what?

I open my eyes.

I don't recognize his face.

He has red hair and tan skin and is wearing a mask. He looks familiar, sort of, but I can't place him.

"You can put your fists down," he says. "I'm not here to fight."

I don't put them down. "Do I know you?" I ask.

"Sort of," he answer. "I work for… I'm… I used to be a Teen Titan. I fought you before… Before the Brotherhood of Evil battle."

That's why he looked familiar. "You're the Green Arrow's sidekick? Speedy?"

"Call me Roy," he says, holding a hand out, for me to shake. I stare at it for a moment, then look at his face.

"Take your mask off."

He stares at me, looks almost shocked. "What?"

"I'm not wearing mine. It's only fair."

His eyes narrow, or at least I'm pretty sure they do. "Tell me your real name," he says.

"Why would I…"

"It's only fair."

I guess it is. "I'm Jade," I say quietly. He reaches up and takes off his mask.

His eyes are dull, a pale shade of blue-grey. Clear, diluted, barely-colored, like rain, reflected and distorted through the window pane. Limp, weak. Ugly, even.

His eyes are dead.

I cannot look away.

"What are you doing here?" I manage to ask.

"I told you," he says, "I just want to help."

"Help with what?"

"Not with anything," he explains. "I… I want to help _you_."

I still don't understand. "Help me with what?"

He breathes slowly. "Look, Jade…"

"Cheshire," I say quickly. "You don't know me and you don't get to call me that." I'm such an idiot for even telling him.

"Okay, Cheshire," he says, with a slight nod. It's almost condescending, actually. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is… Is I think you can do better than this. You don't… You seem like you… Like you don't need to be a villain."

I stare at him. I don't know if it's because I'm so confused or if it's just because I can't seem to move very much right now.

"What are talking about?" I ask.

He picks at the skin on his thumb. "You just seem like a good person," he says.

This almost makes me laugh. I don't know how anyone could mistake me for… No, I'm not about to laugh. I'm about to cry.

"You don't know me," I whisper.

"No," he whispers, not looking at me, digging into the back of his hand with his fingernails. "I guess I don't."

I swallow back the tears. I can't let him see me cry. I can't let him know that I'm not… That I'm weak. That I am a weak, pathetic little girl. I always have been. Probably always will be.

"Who sent you here?" I ask. "And what do they want? Are you supposed to earn my trust and then turn me in or something?"

'Cause I would know a thing or two about that, I guess.

"No one sent me," he says. "And I'm not trying to turn you in."

"Then how did you find me?" I ask.

"Uh, some girl," he says. "Said she's worked with you. Told me her name was Bullet."

They sent _Emma_?

"So her name is Emma, then?" he says, smirking. I didn't realize that I'd spoken out loud. "I figured her name couldn't really be Bullet." He laughs, a low, cold chuckle.

"It's no worse than Speedy," I say, glaring at him. He doesn't respond to that, just glances at the floor and then back at me.

"Look," he says, "I really do want to help you, Jade. I think that you're…"

"Cheshire," I interrupt. "And I don't know who you think you are, but I don't need help, and I have no intention of… Joining your little… Club. I'm a villain, okay?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but I don't let him. "Now get out," I say. "Before I show you what that means."

I turn around and start to walk to my bedroom. I feel my hair beating against my back, heavy and wet, as I move.

"Wait, Jade!"

I don't turn around. "What?" I ask.

"What if I… What if I stay and… And help you be a villain, or… Or whatever? That way you can prove to me that it's where you belong."

I glance at him over my shoulder. He has bags under his eyes, like he hasn't had a decent night's sleep in… Years.

"Okay," I say. I don't know why.

_Somebody ring the alarm_

_A fire on the roof_

* * *

Author's Notes:

Sorry this took me so long! September and October got a bit busy for me, but everything's sorted out now, and I'm going to try to update this and _Hope on a String_ on a more regular basis.

Writing Jade is actually really scary, because she has no characterization at all in the show. I want to be able to take creative license, but I also don't want to overstep any boundaries. With Jade, though, that isn't really an option. I have to overstep boundaries and create a personality for her. Which is scary. But, um, I hope you guys like how I'm choosing to characterize her. I see her as being very soft-spoken and feminine, someone who would be the sweetest person, except she's been so beaten down by life that she's closed herself off.

In the last chapter, Roy paints himself as being so, so tough. And Jade sees someone who's dead in the eyes. Which either means that she's able to see what he can't, or that it's all a façade, or both. Jade, on the other hand, tries to act tough, but really thinks of herself as worthless and empty. Unlike Roy, she's painfully aware of her own façade.

Title and lyrics from _Dirrty_ by Christina Aguilera. Um, my using that song is at least ninety-seven-percent tongue-in-cheek? That, and the extra "r" looks cool.

Thanks to my brother for editing.

Review Response

(I'm going to start sending these out individually after this chapter, but I want to make sure I responded to these)

Byn: Thank you so much, I'm glad you like my writing style!

Somewhere In Time: Thank you so much! I'm really happy to hear my characterization of Roy is good, since writing the characters well is always one of my biggest focuses. Hope I didn't ruin that song for you. XD

Purpleanime: Thank you so much, I'm glad you like the story!

Titangirl797: Thank you so much! Um, not sure what to say about the loving me forever/story alerting thing except that it made me smile. XD

ReimeiNoAkatsuki: Thank you so much! I'm glad to hear I've converted you to Speeshire. XD

62: Thank you so much!

Hinatalover445: Thank you so much! I'm happy to hear you like it and that you love _Breaking Free_ as well. Yes, Bullet/Emma will be a major character, I'm glad you like her!


	3. The Interview

The Interview

_Roy_

Well.

This definitely wasn't part of the plan.

I did not intend to end up sleeping on her couch for a week, wondering when she's going to say something to me about it. And I definitely, definitely did not intend to kind of, sort of, maybe, I think this might be what I just did, offer to help her commit crime.

Really. This was not my plan.

Damn, though, her eyes.

Her eyes are making it worth it.

Jade really is the perfect name for her. Her eyes are brilliant, beautiful, speaking green. Like, well, Jade.

Jade.

Just being able to look at her, to know what her name is, is making this worth it.

I take a drag on my cigarette and watch the smoke blow around her living room. "What am I supposed to do about him? He's a freaking hero!" I hear her exclaim into the phone from her bedroom. It makes me grin, out of some twisted sense of self-righteousness, I guess, to know that she is talking about me and to know that, even if I might be completely selling myself out for this "quit-my-team-save-the-girl-get-the-girl" plan of mine, at least somebody still thinks I'm the good guy.

I can hear the phone slam from all the way across her apartment. Her bedroom door opens and out she comes.

Jade.

She is so…

Before I saw her without her mask, I always thought she'd be gorgeous but…

She is so much more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.

"My boss wants to meet you," she says coolly. I sit up on the couch and throw her a smile that does not have its desired effect. I do _not_ play nice, ever, and I hate that now that I actually am it is getting me nowhere.

"That means we get to spend some time together?" I ask. She stares at me, and I wish the look on her face wasn't so… Indifferent.

"Just… Put on something you won't be recognized in, okay?" she tells. "We have to walk."

"So we're a 'we' now?" I ask, and she huffs a breath as she closes the door to her bedroom again.

I throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and then dig through until I find my leather jacket. It's fucking ridiculous that I am wearing a jacket in Santa Fe in the middle of May, but I don't really don't feel like letting Jade see my track lines.

Though, it's not like I really think anything could make her think much less of me than she already does. Which does not help my argument for abandoning villainy. But, well, this is just a hiccup in the plan. I'm sure it is. All I gotta do is make her see things my way. It can't be that hard. I'll just convince her that being a villain is stupid and I'm sure she will…

Oh, God. Why did I think this was a good idea?

She steps out of her bedroom, dressed in this tiny little white halter dress and looking gorgeous as hell.

Right. That's why.

"Are you ready?" she asks quietly. Everything she says tends to be quiet. There's something intimidating about it. She seems so soft. So easy to underestimate.

"Yeah," I reply, standing up and following her out of her apartment and out the building.

I have not left her apartment in a week, just sat on the couch watching her come and go from whatever this job she's doing is. This might explain why I notice how beautiful the stars look.

She keeps herself a few paces in front of me as we walk down the street. Her heels click with each step, and her ponytail practically hits the sidewalk. "So where are we going?" I ask. I take a cigarette out of my pocket and light it.

"You'll find out," she says, not looking at me. I guess I should have expected that, from the girl who's barely talked to me for three days. I take a drag, and then she does look back at me.

Huh.

"Can you not?" she asks. "I hate the smell."

"Sorry," I say. I throw the cigarette on the ground and crush it out with my foot.

She looks at it, and murmurs "Ew," but doesn't say anything to me.

I stare up at the sky, big and full and shining. I can pick out the Rabbit Tracks in the stars. I've never understood how western cultures see a scorpion there. It's a rabbit, clear as day.

Jade turns into the walkway of a building. I glance at the name above the doorway. "Your headquarters is at the Inn of the Anasavi?" I ask. Who makes headquarters at a five-star hotel?"

"We don't have a headquarters, thank you," she says. "My boss is living here."

She's gotta be fucking kidding. Or possibly trying to lure me somewhere where she's planning to hand me over to someone and have me killed. "That like living at the…"

"The Plaza?" she finishes. "Yeah. I know."  
I smile at her. "New Yorker?"

"That's not your business," she states. She opens the door and heads inside, walking straight to the stairs and up the top floor, where she knocks on a door.

"It's me," she calls out.

Her boss must be the stuffy businessman type. One of those super-rich mobsters who thinks he owns the world. Guys like them always rent out big hotels and hire pretty teenage girls like Jade. It's creepy and gross. Poor thing, having to work for a guy like that.

The door opens. Standing on the other side is a short girl about my age, maybe a few years older, in a slinky black dress that does very little to cover her huge boobs. Damn, is she hot. Seriously, I would tap that.

Well, if I wasn't already… If it weren't for…

"Cheshire," the woman says, nodding briskly. She looks at me. "And I take it you must be Speedy,"

"Call me Roy," I say, mostly because maybe if she does then Jade finally will.

"Right," she says. She kind of gives me the once over, looks me up and down and I am suddenly very self-conscious about my arms, even though I'm wearing long sleeves. "Come in," she continues. "Please."

Jade walks into the room and I follow. It's huge and beautiful, decorated in a southwestern style. "Sit down," the woman says gesturing towards a couch. When she moves her arms, I can see that she isn't wearing a bra. Their boss must force her to dress like that. What a perv.

"Would you like anything?" she asks. "Tea, coffee, food?"

"Tea, please," Jade replies quietly. "You know how I like it."

"And you, Roy?" the woman asks. She smiles, sweetly, as she emphasizes my name

"Tea's fine," I say. The woman slips into the kitchen, and I turn to Jade.

"She like your boss's secretary or something?" I ask.

"Quiet, she'll hear you," Jade whispers sharply. She seems genuinely afraid of this. I almost laugh.

"And what, put in a bad word about you?" I snap back. If she isn't going to play nice, maybe I just won't either.

"She _is_ my boss, you idiot."

Oh.

My God.

Her boss is a _chick._

"You work for her?"

"Yeah,"Jade says. "So?"

"So…. So… I don't know. She's a she!" I exclaim. "And she's, what, nineteen? Twenty?"

"Keep your voice down!" Jade whispers. "And you work for a girl who's younger than that."

"Yeah, well…" Damn it, she has a point.

"Please, Speedy, just do me a favor and let me do the talking," Jade murmurs.

"I told you," I say, quietly, "call me Roy."

She doesn't reply.

Her… Boss walks back the room, carrying a tray of mugs. "I hope you don't mind chamomile," she says, handing one to me.

"Not at all," I say, taking it from her. I look at the drink, smell it. It doesn't smell like anything but flowers and honey, but, well, the whole point of GHB is that it doesn't smell like anything. I put the mug down on her coffee table.

"It's not drugged, I promise," the woman says, smiling. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"And why should I believe that?" I ask.

"Speedy, please, stop," Jade hisses. She turns to the woman. "Magdalena, I'm so sorry, I really don't know how he found me. He said something about Emma…"

"Oh, I told him where you were," Magdalena interrupts, still smilling. "Or rather, I told Emma to."

Jade narrows her eyes at her. "And why would do that? Are you trying to… To sell me to the Titans or something?"

"No, Jade, of course not," Magdalena soothes her. Jade folds her arms against her chest, looks down at the floor. "I heard he was looking for you and I thought it would be a good opportunity for all of us if he found you."

"Why?" Jade mumbles.

"He's an archer. I thought he'd be a perfect weapons specialist for our cause."

Wait, what?

"You want me to…"

"That's Emma's job!" Jade exclaims, cutting me off. She glares at Magdalena, fire in her eyes. In a week, it is the loudest sentence I have heard her say.

"Let's face it, Jade," Magdalena snaps, suddenly turning and glowering at her. "Emma isn't working out. I know you like the girl, but that's all she is. A little girl. I can't accept inexperience for this mission, and I definitely can't accept weakness."

"So what?" Jade asks. Her voice has shrunk back down to a whisper, pale and thin. "Are you just going to throw her back onto the streets than?"

"She needs this job, Magdalena," Jade whispers. "You can't just…"

Magdalena ignores her, and turns to me with a brilliant smile. "What do you say, Roy?" she asks, sugary sweet. "Would you like to help us? Help Jade?"

Well, that's not creepy.

"Help you with what?" I ask.

"Just a little job we're working on, one that I've hired Jade here for," Magdalena says. Jade wrings her hands, pulling so tight that her veins stick out.

"After all," Magdalena continues, "she told me you offered to help her."

Yeah, I guess I did.

The tiniest whimper escapes from Jade's lips, and I realize that yes, I did offer to help her. Not to help Cheshire, not to help some group of criminals, but to help Jade. Because I'm in love with her.

Aren't I?

"Fine," I say. "I'll be your weapons specialist." Jade glances up at me, her eyes wide.

She opens her mouth, than shuts it again, and bites down on her ruby-red lower lip. Damn, the things I would do to kiss those lips.

The things I am doing.

"But," I continue, "on one condition."

"Anything," Magdalena says.

I drown my cup of tea in one go. I'm not sure if I hope she wasn't lying about it not being drugged or if I hope that is so that I can get high off it. Though if it is drugged, it's probably a roofie, which is just a hypnotic and can't actually get me high. My luck.

Anyway, it tastes normal. My luck.

"Emma stays," I tell her. "I could use her help."

Magdalena laughs, a weirdly delicate wind-chime-sort of sound. "Like as your sidekick?"

"Right," I say, "sidekick." I can feel myself gritting my teeth.

I wonder if this is how Ollie felt.

Magdalena beams at me. "Done," she says. Jade looks at her, than me, and I grin, weakly at her. She shakes her head, stands up, and bolts out of the hotel room.

I stare at the door after she slams it shut, but Magdalena doesn't even looks its way. "I have some paperwork for you," she says, and she stands up and leaves the room again. I take out a cigarette, light it, and take a long, slow drag.

I think I might have actually just agreed to be a supervillain.

Fuck. Why can't I stop myself from doing these things?

Why do I want to be with her this badly?

No, no, that's not what's going on. I'm just going to do this for long enough to make Jade fall for me. Then it's back to my original plan, get her to join the Titans and get the hell out of her. I'm not joining the dark side. Not really.

Fuck.

Magdalena comes back with a thick stack of papers. "The hotel's non-smoking," she tells me.

"Oh, sorry," I murmur. I don't see an ashtray so I stub my cigarette out at the bottom of my cup.

"This a contract or something?" as she drops the papers onto my lap.

"Sign here," she says, pointing, "and here, and on the next page…"  
"Woah, wait," I say. "Aren't you even going to tell me what this 'mission' of yours is?"

"That's on a need to know basis," Magdalena says, smiling.

"And don't I need to know?" I snap. Her smile fades.

"You want to help her, right?" she asks, her voice low and calm.

"Yeah."

"Than you'll take what I give you."

I sign.

---

"Jade, let me in," I say, ramming the door of the apartment with my fist. I've been doing it for five fucking minutes. "I know you can hear me."

"Go away!" she shouts, but I least I got her to talk to me, I guess.

"Jade…"

"Don't call me that! You don't know me and you don't fucking get to call me that! "Well you told it to me!"

"What are you doing here?" she snaps,

"I'm pretty sure I live here."

"I'm pretty sure you're crashing on my couch. "

"I'm pretty sure you invited me to!"

"I'm pretty sure you begged!"

I bang my fist against the door againt. "Ja-… Cheshire, just open up!"

She throws the door open. "What do you want from me?" she hisses.

There is make-up, thick and black, stained up and her pale cheeks. I feel like shit for yelling at her.

"I just…" I begin. "I told you. I just want to help."

"Why?" she demands.

"Because…" Damn it. "I don't know, okay? There's just something about you, I just… Since the day I met you I can't get you out of my head, I…" Love you. I think. "I just think you could use a friend."

"I don't need any friends," she scoffs.

"Oh, yeah? What about that Emma kid? The one who's ass I just saved for you, if you don't remember? The least you could do is thank me."

"Thank you?" she snaps. "For what? For barging in on my life with your pathetic 'you-can-do-better' act? For almost getting me _and_ Emma fired? For being a complete bastard? I hate you!"

Yeah, that does it. No more Mr. Nice Guy. "Oh, come on, what did I ever do to you?" I demand.

"I…" she snaps, but then she just presses her hand against her mouth. "I don't know," she chokes. "I don't know and I don't know why you won't just leave me alone."

"Because I…" Love you. I think. "I don't know either, okay? I don't do things for people, ever, but I am helping your friend because I am trying to help you! Why won't you just let me?"

"Because I didn't ask you to!" she shrieks. "I don't need help, I don't…"

She bursts into tears, and suddenly, I realize how small she is, how fragile.

"Jade…"

"Cheshire!"

"Jade," I say again, resting a hand on her shoulder. This time she doesn't protest.

I pull her towards me. I kiss her, feel her lips, hot and sweet against mine.

She doesn't protest about that either.

* * *

I have dreamed about something like this pretty much every night since I first fought her.

In every single one of those dreams, she was the one top of me.

Which is not the way it happens.

* * *

"That was amazing," I say. Jade looks at me out of the corner of her eye. Her gorgeous, gorgeous eyes. Her jet black hair is scattered across the bed, soft where it brushes up against me. I'm afraid I'm dreaming. I reach out and touch my hand to hers, and her pale white skin is just as silky smooth as her hair.

This is real.

She is real.

And what I feel… It's real.

I love her.

I know it.

"That," Jade says quietly, holding a blanket up to her neck, "never happened."

"Oh, come on," I say. "Are you honestly trying to tell me that wasn't amazing?"

She looks at the floor and trails a finger across her lips. She doesn't say yes, but she doesn't say no either.

"Why did you come here?" she whispers.

"To find you," I answer.

"And you're really offering to help me?" she asks, her voice quiet, weak. I realize, suddenly, that there is nothing scary about the quiet way she talks. Just soft, delicate, desperate. "To help Emma?"

"Yes."

She nods. "Okay."

"So, I guess this makes up friends with benefits?" I ask.

She almost laughs at that. "Oh, we're not friends."

"Then what are we?"

"We're…We're allies. For Emma's sake, we are allies."

"Allies with benefits?" Please say yes.

She doesn't say no.

Which means, if nothing else, I have a chance.

_I crawl across this cracked expansion,  
I'll be buried soon.  
Beneath the sand with pure intentions.  
Wanting something, someone to follow._

For a change, I'll refrain,  
From hiding all of me from you.

* * *

Author's Notes

Hey, guys. As always, so sorry for the delay. Um, I'm going to make it my New Years resolution (New decade resolution?) to actually update regularly. So hopefully I'll be able to do that? (And I'll update _Hope on a String_ soon.)

Anyway, I got really stuck writing this because I didn't want Roy and Jade's relationship to develop at an unrealistic speed, but I also didn't want the story to be boring. And I was bored just trying to figure out how write it, which means it would have been boring to read too. So I just decided to screw it and skip right to the good stuff. (Which is why I did the week-long time skip.) I think the first two chapters sort of serve as a bit of a prologue, and this is where the story really begins.

So about Roy. Oh, Roy. I either really admire his passion or I think he's an impulsive idiot. I'm not sure which. Maybe both. Because he is really, really really rushing into this. I completely believe love at first sight is possible. And I believe that Roy really does love Jade. But, I mean, it's no excuse for sleeping with her after a week, especially when they've barely had a civil conversation in that time. It really isn't. But at the same time, he really does love her. And I think it's sweet that he's realizing how real that is and that he's beginning to see through her façade and that he's really trying to help _her_, by saving her friend, and not just trying to get her to fall for him What he's doing isn't entirely selfless, but it isn't entirely selfish either.

I'm sort of nervous about using OCs in prominent roles, but this story really required it. When I was planning the story, I knew Jade would need teammates, and there weren't any characters on the show who made sense or any characters from the comics who I felt like I knew well enough to adapt. So I just decided to make up my own team. They don't have a name yet. I'm working on that. But, um, I just really hope they turn out to be well-written characters and I hope you guys like them. I don't want to be one of those writers with bad OCs. XD Magdalena is a blast to write. I had been planning for her to just be really really mean all the time, but then when I was writing this chapter, she ended up being polite and fakely sweet instead. I wasn't intending for that to happen, but I'm glad it did. It's so much creepier. XD

Title and lyrics from "The Interview" by AFI.

Thanks to my brother for editing.


	4. Wild Hope

Wild Hope

_Jade_

"That was great," he says.

I rest my head on his chest and trace a circle on his skin with the tip of my finger. "Amazing," I agree, and it strikes me when the last time I heard that word was.

He glances at the clock. "You must have to leave for work now, huh?"

"Yeah," I sigh. I pick my bra off from the floor and put it on. "But we can do this again tonight."

His eyes light up. "Yeah?"

I struggle with the clasp. He reaches over and hooks it for me. "Yeah, I say." I take the pen and notepad off the nightstand and write the address, in my best cursive. "Meet me at this address tonight at eight. That's when my shift ends."

He smiles. "Perfect." He leans in kisses me on the lips.

I pull away, smile sweetly, and say, "I have to go." I slip into my shoes and underwear and pull my dress over my head. "I love you," I lie, as I walk to the door.

He beams, "I love you too, Alyssa."

He doesn't even know my real name.

* * *

"Where've you been?" Roy asks. My apartment's door slams behind me.

"None of your business." I reply. "What happened to your shirt?"

He smirks, and rests his head on his arms, stretching them so that his bare chest flexes even as he lies on the couch. "None of yours."

"Well get dressed," I say. "We're going out."

He sits up, intrigued, and I realize that yesterday was the only time he's left the apartment since he got here. "Where?"

"Dinner," I answer. "You still need to meet the rest of the team."

He fishes around in his suitcase for a t-shirt. As he pulls it over his head, I notice the pale red circles and thin white lines covering his arms. I wonder how I missed them last night.

I suddenly feel cold and over-exposed. I fold my arms across my chest. "I hope you like Mexican."

"Love it. Grew up on the stuff," he says. He puts a jacket on over his shirt. Is he cold too?

Or is he just hiding something?

I don't know how to be around him. Not since last night, when we…

"I'll be right back," I say, heading for my bedroom. "I need a sweater."

* * *

Evelyn waves me over to the table. Her black bob is pulled back by a deep purple bandanna, and the color looks great against her deep brown skin. She's sitting between Emma, who's fidgeting with her silverware, and Mercury Lace, dressed all in white, as usual, her long blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail.

"Hey sweetie!" Evelyn exclaims. "How are you?"

"I'm alright, thanks," I reply, sliding into the seat across from Emma. Roy sits down next to me. I don't introduce him. I'll let Magdalena do that. "You?"

"Good. So this must be the newbie?"

"Yeah," I say briskly. I turn my attention to Emma. "Is that the shirt I gave you? Oh, stand up and let me see!"

Emma blushes as she stands up. The yellow peasant blouse is much too big for her- she wears it like a dress, her denim jacket tied around her waist, dirt smeared across her cheeks.

"You look gorgeous," I tell her. The least I can do. She smiles shyly and sits back down.

Roy glances at me. "Come on now, sweet cheeks. Aren't you gonna introduce me?

Sweet cheeks. My hand flies to my face before I can stop, traces the scar on the corner of my mouth. "Don't call me that," I say sharply. I sigh, then add, "Speedy, these are my co-workers. This is Garnet Gasher…"

"Evelyn," she says, holding out a hand. He shakes it.

"Roy."

"…and this is Mercury Lace."

He extends his hand to her. She doesn't move.

Roy raises an eyebrow. "Got a real name?"he asks.

"Not one you need to know," she says. He makes a face, but doesn't say anything, and focuses himself on his menu.

"So Evelyn," I ask, "how'd that job in Gotham go?"

Evelyn grins sheepishly. "Um, I kind of got into a fight."

"What?" I ask, "I thought you said Poison Ivy just wanted you to help clear out some old field. How did you get into a fight?"

She laughs. "Well, she must have told Harley Quinn, 'cause soon as I got there she was all over me! I think she thought Ivy was coming onto me."

Roy looks up at stares at her. "Wait- you're the one who was in that fight with Harley Quinn? That was all over the papers! I knew I recognized your name."

Evelyn smiles. "What can I say? I'm good at what I do."

"And what's that, exactly?"

She looks down at her hands, doesn't answer right away. "I'm an agent for the Sante Fe Sirens," she says, finally. "I do what I'm hired to do."

"We all work for the same agency, Roy," I whisper. "Don't judge them unless you judge me too."

He looks me right in the eyes. Those cold, empty, lifeless eyes of his. "Who said I'm judging?"

I exhale heavily, then turn back to Evelyn. "So who won?"

"Oh, no one," Evelyn replies, waving a hand in the air lightly. "We talked it out. Went for drinks then watched TV at their place. It was fun!"

I can hear the clicking of high heels as Magdalena walks up to the table. "Oh. good, you're all here," she says smoothly. I don't understand why she acts so nice all the time. We all know that she's faking.

"I assume you've all introduced yourselves?" she asks. Roy gives a brisk nod, his eyes still fixed on me.

A waitress comes to take our orders and leave us a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa. Roy's hand brushes against mine as he reaches for one. I'm sure it's deliberate.

"So are we here to talk strategy?" he asks Magdalena after the waitress leaves.

Magdalena laughs. "Of course not! I just want you all to get to know each other! After all, we are a team."

Roy doesn't know what to make of this. "Oh," he says. He chews slowly, like he's putting thought into it.

"So…" he says, "Evelyn, where are you from? I'm hoping you'll be more willing to share than Jade here." What a jerk. No. No way. I am not even to dignify that with a response.

Evelyn smiles. "San Antonio. You?"

"Tuba City, Arizona. I was raised on the Navajo reservation," he answers.

"Oh, cool!" Evelyn says. "So you're Navajo?"

Roy shrugs. "Not by blood."

"You're an archer, right?" Evelyn asks. He nods. "That's so cool. I think it's great when superheroes don't have powers but still care enough to be in the biz."

Superheroes. It's an odd choice of words since that's not even close to what we are.

"You got any powers?" he asks.

"I control fire," Evelyn answers. "I'm the superpowered operative for this mission."

"That's way cooler than archery," he says with a smile. He turns to Mercury Lace. "How 'bout you, Lacey? What do you do?"

She glares at him. "Call me Lacey again and you'll find out."

I laugh. Roy looks at me, fuming.

"Oh, so now you show an emotion?" he snaps. "Geez, what is your problem?"

I start to say something, but I don't get the opportunity to finish.

"Leave her alone!" Emma snaps.

Oh. Oh, my.

"Emma," I say gently, reaching across the table for her hand. "Sweetheart…"

She looks down at the floor, scuffing the toe of her boot against the tiles. "I'm sorry. I don't know why… I'm really… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm…"

She's practically crying. "Oh, Emma, it's okay. No one's mad…" I smooth out her hair, and shoot Roy the best threatening glance I can.

"Emma, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he says, glaring back. But it's nice of him to apologize to her, I guess.

Evelyn swats Mercury Lace on the shoulder. "She's our forensics experts," she tells Roy. She turns to Mercury Lace. "Can't you ever be nice?" she hisses.

"No, she can't," Magdalena says, smiling. "That's why I hired her."

Mercury Lace doesn't say anything, she just fixes her steely gaze out the window. Roy continues to fix his on me, and our staring contest goes unannounced.

Magdalena ends the silence, her voice musical as ever. "Well," she says, "I promised not to talk business, but we do have to schedule Emma's first training session." She smiles. "Does tomorrow at noon work for you, Roy?"

"Sure," Roy says.

"Great," Magdalena says sweetly. "Emma will meet you at Jade's, won't you Emma?"

"Yes, ma'am," Emma says, still not looking up.

The waitress arrives with our dishes and we start eating in silence. After what seems like an eternity, Magdalena, once again, is the first to speak.

"Girls," she says, tapping a finger on an imaginary watch on her wrists, like she's a kindergarten teacher, "it's almost eight."

"Oh," Evelyn says, standing up and slinging her purse over her shoulder. Mercury Lace stands up as well. Evelyn gives Emma and me quick hugs. "Bye girls! Nice to meet you!" she tells Roy, as the two of them head for the door.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" I snap, slamming the apartment door shut.

"Hell was what?" Roy asks, flinging himself onto the couch.

"You yelling at me just because Mercury Lace is a bitch?" I say angrily. "I can't help who my co-workers are! And what gives you the right to yell at me for anything?"

"I was mad that you _laughed_ at me," he snaps back. "Fuck it, Jade, we made love last night and that was the first time you've showed any emotion since then was when you were fucking making fun of me."

"_Making love_?" I snicker. "Do you not realize how stupid you sound?"

"See?" he yells. "There you go again! Did you ever consider that maybe last night meant something to me?"

"We had sex," I snap. "I've had sex with a lot of people, Roy."

"So have I," fixing his eyes on mine, and his eyes mesmerize me, as always. They're the only part of him that doesn't even bother to pretend he isn't completely fucked up beyond repair. "Doesn't change how I feel."

I bite my lip. "You really mean that?" I ask.

"Yeah."

He's so… Genuine. For all of his acting and pretending to be tough he just… Feels things, really strongly. And he does care. About me. About Emma.

"I've been a bitch to you, haven't I?" I ask. He shrugs,

"Maybe a little."

I sit down on the couch next to him, and look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry," I say. "For everything." For once I'm not even lying.

"Thanks."

"So, um," my god I cannot believe I'm about to ask this, "can I, maybe, um, take you up on that friends-with-benefits thing?"

"We're friends?"

"Yeah," I tell him. "We are."

He smiles, leans forward and kisses me on the lips.

* * *

"Okay," I sigh, crashing onto my pillow. "Where did you learn that?"

Roy props his head up on hand. "Don't laugh."

"I won't."

"_Cosmo_."

I can't help but laugh. "You read _Cosmo_?"

"Just sometimes…" he grumbles. "How else am I supposed to learn what girls like?"

"Um, experience?" I suggest, giggling.

He doesn't smile. "Speaking of experience…" Oh, God. "If we're gonna make a habit of this- and don't get me wrong, I hope we are, but… Maybe we should know a little about each other?"

I roll onto my side to face him. "Like what?"

He grimaces. "Like, for starters, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," I answer. "April 29, 1988. You?"

"Eighteen," he answers. "October 9, '86. Which would make this statutory in Arizona…This isn't gonna get you in trouble, is it?"

I smile. "You're the adult, shouldn't you be worried about getting yourself in trouble?" He just shrugs. He really is sweet. "Anyway we're fine, seventeen's age of consent in New Mexico."

He smiles back. "Good. Uh, what's your full name?"

"Jade Tien Nguyen."

"That's pretty." he says. "What language?"

"Vietnamese," I reply. "'Tien' means fairy."

"It's perfect for you."

That…

Might actually be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. I have to look away to hide my smile. "How about you?"

"Roy William Harper. Uh, junior."

"Junior?" I chuckle. "Your question."

"Alright, um…" He swallows. "You use protection with other guys?"

"Always," I tell him. "Ever had any STDs?"

"Never. You?"

"Same."

He reaches forward to brush a lock of hair out of my eyes, then rests his hand on the side of my face I can feel myself blush. It is something Cheshire would never do.

So why am I?

I'm not two different people. So why do I feel different with him? Why can I just let go and just…

Be myself.

"Your question," he says.

"Oh, right," I whisper. "Um… How many people have you slept with?"

He doesn't answer. I slide closer to him and lay my head on his chest. "Roy? You okay?"

"I, um, I don't know," he says, "How many people, I mean."

"Oh, well that's okay. I don't either," I admit. "I'm… Kind of a hooker, sometimes. Like, I'm sleeping with people, for this job, I… Probably should have told you that before."

"It's okay," he says. "I don't really care."

Really?

I can only stare at him, wide-eyed.

He moves his hand to my arm and traces the scars there, then the one extending from my mouth. "Where are these from?"

"I used to scratch myself with my claws," I explain. I point to the scar on my face."And this one…" I breathe heavily. I can't believe I'm telling him this. Why can't I seem to lie to him? "When I was seven, my mother… She was a prostitute and one of her clients… He was psychopathic or something and… Well, her came to our apartment, made her watch while he did this to my face and then… He raped me. In front of her. Then he killed her and sold me to a brothel."

Huh. Saying that felt kind of good.

"Oh, my God, Jade…" he says, his brow furrowed with concern "I'm… I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked you…"

I smile. "It's okay, really. Been a while since I told anyone that. It was cathartic. And anyway, that's how I picked the name Cheshire."

He rubs his finger across the thin line again. I shiver as his fingertip drifts across my lips. "'Cause you're always smiling."

"Me and the Joker." I place my own fingers on his left arm and trace the lines running up and down his skin. "Self-injury?"

He shakes his head. "Track marks. I'm a recovering heroin addict."

"Hmm," I sigh, nuzzling his chest. His skin feels rough, but warm. "How long have you been clean?"

He smirks. "It's my turn."

I smile back. "You can have two in a row."

"Little over three years now. You don't have a problem with it?"

"I'm a hooker, Roy, not a hypocrite," I joke. "Next question?"

"What was your first time like?" he asks. "Consensual, I mean."

"I grew up in a brothel, it's kind of a fine line," I giggle. "Um… I ran away when I was eleven and slept with this guy for a couple years, in exchange for room and board.  
At first he made me, but, after a while I didn't mind… He's the one who taught me martial arts, actually. What about yours?"

He sighs. "I was fourteen. I was at a party and I was… God, I was so high…" He seems ashamed.

"It's okay," I say again. "Go on."

"He name was… Annabelle? Isabelle? Something belle," he says. "She was older than me and experienced and…. Like I said, I was high. That's why I don't really know how many people I've slept with. I'd go to these drug parties and just sleep with… Anyone. Girls, guys, multiple people at once… I was high."

"Your question," I say.

"When was your first time, you know, like with a boyfriend? Not a client or that jackass…" he asks.

"He wasn't a jackass…" I murmur. "Well, anyway, um… Gosh, I don't know, I…"

Oh.

Oh, my God.

"Last night," I realize.

And I burst into tears.

"Jade…" he whispers, holding me against his chest, skin-to-skin contact, that, for the first time in my life means something more than just survival.

_In a crazy world_

_anything can happen_

_if you will it to._

_I'm just a hazy girl_

_Blurring all the edges, _

_only seeing blue._

_It's a wild hope._

_A wild hope._

_A wild hope._

_Everything will be all right._

* * *

Author's Notes

Hey, guys. I'm so so so sorry for the dely. The full story can be read in my notes for the most recent chapter of _Hope on a String_, but basically, I've had health problems over the last year and haven't been able to write. I'm really sorry, I feel terrible about how long it' been since I've updated. I hope you guys can forgive me and be patient with my crazy update schedule. I promise not to give up on my stories, I'll try my best to complete them at some point.

So, when my brother read this chapter, he was kind of like, "Elle, all they do is go to dinner and have sex." and I was like, "um… Exactly?". XD He's right. nothing much happens. XD At least, not on-screen. (On-page? How do you say that for a written work?) The plot of this story only really works if its developed slowly.I'm laying the bricks for things chapter by chapter- in this chapter, I had to make sure I introduced the rest of the supporting cast, as well as develop Roy and Jade's relationship and establish details about their backgrounds. (Um, Jade's background is adapted loosely- _incredibly_ loosely- from her comic background. I felt it had to be loose interpretation in order for her to both fit in this universe and remain a sympathetic character.)

Also, I'm was attempting to imply about Evelyn and/or Mercury Lace in this chapter. If anyone caught it, you win a cookie! And I'll write you a one-shot!

Title and lyrics from "Wild Hope" by Mandy Moore. Thanks to my brother for editing.


	5. Tea Party

Tea Party

_Roy_

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead!"

Jade is leaning over the countertop of her kitchenette, barefoot with a floral apron tied over her jeans and a camisole and a spatula in her hand. Emma sits at the table, flipping through the pages of a magazine.

I rub my eyes with the back of my hand. "Time is it?"

"One," Jade answers. She places a plate- pancakes- on the table. "We made you breakfast. But I guess it's lunch now," she giggles.

"I guess…" I sit down at the table across from Emma. She looks up at me for a split second, big brown doe eyes obscured by her messy brown bangs, than looks back down at the magazine. _Glamour_, from the looks of it.

"Sorry I'm late for our, uh, training."

"That's okay."

"So, I guess we should get going?"

"Take your time."

Jade smiles. "Oh, don't be shy, Em. Roy might look tough but he's just a big sweetie."

"Thanks. I think." Jade giggles and sits down in the seat next to me.

"Do you like the pancakes?" she asks hopefully.

I take a bite. "Delicious. How'd you know chocolate chip's my favorite?"

She shrugs, a sweet smile on her lips. God, she's beautiful. "I guessed. It's Evelyn's recipe. Just _wait_ until you try her mac-and-cheese."

I smile as I swallow another bite. Just wait until. Which means I'll have the chance. She's giving me the chance.

"So what are your plans for today?" I ask her.

"Well, I've got a work thing," she says, "and then a mani-pedi appointment, and then the girls and I were thinking of going out tonight. You can come, if you want."

"Sure. As long as going out doesn't mean seeing a chick flick."

"Well, we hadn't decided yet, but I'll make sure it doesn't."

I think about reaching for her hand under the table, but I change my mind- that might be overstepping the "friends with benefits" boundary.

But, god, I just want to touch her.

"Em, are you coming tonight?" Jade asks. Emma shakes her head vigorously, making her bangs even messier.

"Magdalena says I have to meet with her," she says softly.

"Oh, okay," Jade replies. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"What's tomorrow?" I ask. Whatever it is I bet it ain't good.

"Sunday's our movie night," Jade explains. Ah. How mundane of them.

"Mm-hmm," Emma says. I watch her as she turns the page of the magazine, slowly. She peeks up at me and realizes I'm looking at her. Her eyes go wide before darting back to the page.

What am I supposed to do with this kid?

"Emma, honey, what happened to your shoes?" Jade asks suddenly. Emma looks down at her white sneakers- one has a huge hole by her toes, the other is peeling away from the rubber sole.

"I dunno," she says, shrugging.

"Well, you can't wear those out," Jade decides. "Let me find you something." She dashes into her bedroom, the sliding door whirring shut behind her and leaving Emma and I alone at the table.

Emma glances up at me, giving me a peculiar look that I can't place. Neither of us says a word. When she looks back down at her magazine, I turn my attention to the newspaper.

Articles about crimes, specifically. There is some coverage of a serial-killer case in Chicago, a murder in New Orleans, a kidnapping in Boston. There is nothing about me.

So far, the coverage of my… Absence has cited "personal leave". It implies that they know something, because otherwise they'd cite me as MIA. It just doesn't tell me _what_ they know.

The only person I told before I left was Jinx. And we aren't exactly best friends. Mostly because I blackmailed her. So I don't know who, if anyone, she would have told why I left. I don't know if they know about Jade or about the fact that I'm enough of an asshole to _blackmail_ a girl just because I can't handle having a crush on someone I'm supposed to fight against.

And if they do know, what do they think of me now?

Jade comes back into the kitchen holding a pair of black boots- Doc Martens, I think. Not the kind of thing I'd expect her to own.

"These are a bit old, but they'll fit," she says. She kneels down, pulls off Emma's sneakers, and laces her into the boots. From this angle, I can see the straps of a cherry-red bra beneath Jade's tank-top, and her snug jeans slide down as she bends over, revealing matching underwear. She notices that I'm watching, and flashes me a sexy grin.

Damn, girl sure knows how to tease me.

"How do they feel?" she asks Emma. Emma shrugs.

"Good."

I swallow the last bite of my pancakes. "Great," I say. "Ready to go now?"

Emma just shrugs again. Jade waves as we head out the door.

"I'll see you guys later!" she says. She winks at me.

Damn.

* * *

"Are we going to have sex?"

I nearly drop my bow and arrows.

"What?"

Emma shrugs. She is sitting at the other end of the alleyway I have decided to practice in, watching me set up. It's not have private as I'd like, but I don't have a car so I can't drive us out the dessert, and we're in a quiet part of the city on a nearly abandoned old street, so I'm not worried about people walking by.

"I mean, that's why you're keeping me around, right?" she asks, '"Cause you're hoping I'm a good fuck?"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I mean, it's not like men ever want anything else."

That actually makes me laugh. "You're not so sweet when Jade's not around, are you?"

She presses her lips together. "I don't know."

"Emma, what are you, fourteen?" I ask, giving her the benefit of the doubt.

"Thirteen," she admits, which is what I figured.

"Well, believe me when I say I have no interest in committing statutory rape."

She looks shocked. "So you _don't_ want to sleep with me?"

"No!" I exclaim. "Emma, Jade said you needed this job! I swear, I was just trying to help. Geez, I just didn't want you to starve!"

She seems to shrink in place. "Really?"

"Yes! Now can please just get started?"

"Sorry," she grumbles, clambering to her feet.

I hand her my bow. "Go ahead," I tell her.

She stares at it like it's a UFO. "Go ahead and what?"

"Show me what you know."

She bites her lip. "I've never used one of these."

Ugh, kids these days with their newfangled weapons. "Then get out your gun," I sigh. Doesn't anyone teach them to appreciate the classics?

She inhales, holding her mouth open like a fish before admitting "I don't have a gun."

I feel like smacking my head in wall. "Your name is _Bullet_ and you don't have a gun?"

"Well…"

"Do you even know how to use a gun?"

She flushes a deep red.

Oh, God.

"Emma, do you know how to use any sort of weapon?"

She shakes her head.

Now I _really_ want to smack my head into a wall. "How did you even get this job?"

She wraps her arms around her chest, trying to make herself even smaller. "I lied," she admits.

I exhale sharply, grab her hand and pull her towards the street. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" she asks, clumsily dragging my bow as she struggles to keep up.

"Not sure yet," I tell her. We walk a few blocks before we reach a street with some shops. They're small and seedy looking, with displays of cheap, costume-y lingerie and books that look ready to crumble in the windows

There's a bar, done up in the front to look like an old western movie, swinging wooden doors and dark lighting. The sign reads "Saloon".

Ah, the southwest. It's been far too long.

"There," I say, pointing. I push open the swinging doors and we go inside. It looks exactly how I expected it to; everything is made of unpolished wood, the walls are covered in sepia-toned portraits, and an upright piano stands in one corner, covered in dust. There are only two other people inside- a middle aged guy in a trucker hat holding a beer and a copy of Playboy, and a twenty-something waitress, leaning against the bar in cutoffs and beat-up cowboy boots. I walk up to her.

"You got a dart board?" I ask.

She is absent-mindedly painting her fingernails in a dusty shade of pink. "Over there," she says, gesturing towards one wall.

I grab the darts and hand them to Emma, then position her a few feet away. "Go."

She raises an eyebrow. "Darts?"

"Hey, this is how I started," I say. "You questioning the ways of the Navajo people?"

"No?"

"Didn't think so. Now throw."

She does. A perfect bullseye.

Clearly I started her off too easy. "Back-up," I tell her. She takes a few steps back. "Little more." She stops about halfway across the room. "Perfect. Go ahead."

She looks at the dart for a while, planning, before she throws it.

Another bullseye.

I pull the two darts out of the board. "Back-up again."

Another.

"Against the wall," I instruct. She stands, back to wall, and starts throwing darts.

Every single one lands within the center three rings.

She's slow, overthinking every move and way too cautious.

But damn that is some aim.

I nod at the waitress, who has stopped painting her nails and is watching, mesmerized. "Get the kid a Shirley Temple."

She fixes the drink and sets in front of Emma, who smiles nervously and takes a sip. "On the house," she tells me. "I've never seen anything like that."

I look Emma up and down, really look at her for the first time. She is scrawny, underdeveloped and pale, with long chestnut colored hair and dark brown eyes obscured by thick bangs. Her clothes- a frayed denim vest over a baggy maroon cardigan, a cheetah-print tank-top that's so big on her she wears it as a dress, and black socks that go well up to the top of her thighs- probably all belonged to Jade at some point. She has dirt under her fingernails and a light spray of freckles across her nose. She'll be pretty, in a couple of years.

"Me either," I reply.

Well, it looks like I have something to work with.

* * *

There is no such thing as clubbing when you're under twenty-one in Santa Fe, so "out tonight" wound up meaning going to a rave being held in the basement of some apartment building. Of the four of us, Evelyn, in head-to-toe sequins and brightly colored plastic jewelry, is the only one who blends. Evelyn is a tall, sweet-faced African-American girl with chin-length hair and a very loud wardrobe. Out of all of Jade's… Co-workers, she has been the nicest to me. So at least someone's on my side.

Jade and Evelyn are giggling and dancing with a crowd of girls they seem to know, while Mercury Lace and I are slumped on a couch that is omitting an… odor. I don't want to know what.

House and eurodance are blaring from a speaker and bright, multicolored strobe lights have been placed everywhere possible, turning the room- which I am assuming is actually really ugly- into the inside of a kaleidoscope, swirling and disjointed and impossibly colorful.

I used to enjoy this sort of thing. When I was fourteen.

When I was high.

I whip out a cigarette and take a puff. Even the smoke looks surreal under the lighting, like it's made out of cotton candy or whatever-the-hell Lewis Carroll was on. It is no substitute for the real thing.

"So what brings you here?" I ask Mercury Lace. "I didn't peg ya for the party type."

Mercury Lace is beautiful, maybe as beautiful as Jade, but in a different way. Jade looks like a 1940s pin-up girl- small but curvy, a sweet face with full lips. My type. Mercury Lace, on the other hand, is wiry with ice-blonde hair and sharp features. She always seems to dress entirely in white, like she fancies herself the Snow Queen. But where Evelyn is friendly and sweet, Mercury Lace is, well, _not_.

"I'm not," she replies coolly. "Evelyn asked me to come and I decided to be nice. For once." She emphasizes the "for once", just to make it clear that she has decided not to like me. Well, two can play that game.

"Hmm. Interesting sob story," I say, between puffs. "Clearly, though, the nice train left the station after you got here,

"Clearly."

I blow smoke in her face. "Want a smoke?" I ask, letting my tongue catch on the "k". It sounds hollow.

She doesn't cough. "No."

"Mm, no surprise," I say. "You're much too prim-and-proper for that."

"Prim-and-proper?" she deadpans.

I scoff. "How else do you expect people to interpret the white-lace and silver hearts thing?"

She shifts her legs- adorned with white stockings, sky-high white heels, and a silver anklet with a tiny heart charm- crossing one over the other. "Because torn jeans and wife-beaters are a look."

I raise my arms up under my head, flexing my biceps as I move. Under the strobe lights you can't make out my scars. I'm just another jackass player. "C'mon, you know you think I'm hot."

"I've seen worse," she replies, nonchalantly. She pulls a cell phone out of her tiny silver clutch and starts to tap on the keys with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Are you actually texting or just trying to get out of the conversation?"  
She glares at me, and holds up the screen. The message is addressed to Jade. _Your asshole boyfriend is flirting w/ me._

Ah.

"I'm not her boyfriend," I grumble. Somehow messing with this chick isn't even fun anymore.

She clicks the phone closed. "I won't send it," she decides.

"Thanks."

As if on cue, Jade runs over to us. Her running is more like dancing, light and elegant. The ruffles on her red mini-dress bounce and her long hair seems to float in the air behind her. She's like a fairy. A gorgeous, glimmering fairy.

"C'mon, Roy, dance with me," she says, pulling me to my first.

'I don't dance," I say. She exaggerates rolling her eyes.

"Will you do it if I beg?" she asks, pouting like a puppy. "Pleasepleasepleaseple…."

"No."

She giggles, and leans towards my ear.

"How 'bout if I beg for it later?" she whispers.

Oh now that's just too good a bargain. "Fine," I sigh, trying to make it sound like it is terribly inconvenient for me. She smiles giddily and pulls me to the make-shift dance floor. She stands with her back against my chest and twines her hands behind my neck, shimmying against me to the beat of the song. I wrap my arms around her waist and bend down to whisper in her ear.

"You are really sexy, do you know that?"

She giggles again. "Well, I _am_ a hooker," she jokes. She brushes her fingertips against my cheek.

"And you're really sweet," she says. I pull her face towards mine and kiss her.

* * *

"Roy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

Jade rolls onto her stomach and props her head up in her hands, tangling herself in the bed sheets. "Why did you come here?"'

"Crashing on your couch, remember?" I murmur, not looking up from my pillow.

"No, I mean…" She sighs. "Why did you come to Santa Fe?"

I sit up, look her in the eyes. "To find you. You know that."

"I know, but… Why?"

"Because I…" Love you, I finish in my head. Will it scare her off if I say it? It's taken this long for us to even be friends.

"After the thing with the Brotherhood, I just… I couldn't stop thinking about you," I say, trying to explain myself without saying something that might be too much, too soon.

"I just… Do you know Jinx and Kid Flash?"

She nods. "They're a couple, right?"

"Right," I continue. "And she used to be a villain. And… There was this thing in San Diego, so we were all there, and… And it just made me crazy. To see them together and know that he had helped her and I hadn't helped you."

"I'm not a damsel in distress, Roy," she says.

"I know that, I just mean that…" God, how do I explain this? I was in love with her the moment I laid eyes on her. That's why I did this. "When I met you, I just _knew_, all of a sudden that I…" Love you. "That maybe there was something I was supposed to do for you. Like… Like, there's this thing, in Navajo culture. You're 'sposed to teach your children how to be bears."

"Bears?"

"Bears," I repeat. "Bears, see, when they're going through hard times, they survive by keeping a clear mind. And something just told me that, that maybe you were going through a hard time. And you needed someone to help you be a bear. Like… Like the Holy People were sending me to you." Oh God, did I just say that? That is not going to make any sense to a non-Navajo.

She smiles. "So you're like my spiritual guide?"

"No," I reply. "I dunno. I just think there's a reason I'm supposed to be here."

"So you came?"

"It wasn't that simple…" I admit. "I was supposed to hate you, Jade. But I just _couldn't_. And seeing Jinx and Kid Flash together was making me so nuts that… I might have… Blackmailed her?"

She looks concerned."Blackmailed?"

I feel like I might cry. God, that's pathetic. "I was in so much pain… Like, it… It felt like withdrawal. And my first instinct was to…"

"Remove the trigger?" she suggests. I nod. "I understand. So what happened?"

"I made up some story. Said if I told Robin he'd kick her off the team, said no one liked her or trusted her. Said I was trying to protect the team. And then when she figured out what it was really about she said no one was stopping me from leaving. From looking for you. And she was right. So I did."

"That's sweet," she says. "A little crazy, but… Thank you."

I shrug. "I feel really terrible about it."

Jade pulls herself up and rests her head on my chest. "So apologize."

Apologize. It seems so simple. Just go back and…

"I can't go back," I realize. "I sold my soul to the devil."

"What?"

"The contract. I can't go back to being a superhero after I signed that thing! Oh god, what am I going to the job's done? I can't…"

"Shh, shh…" she soothes, running her fingers through my hair. "You can stay here, okay? For as long as you need. I'll help you work something out."

I nod solemnly. "Thanks."

She curls up against me, her body pressed softly into mine.

"You're a good friend," she tells me.

"Thanks."

But I want to be so much more than that.

_Try not to move so fast  
You know the sir comes last  
I'm the lady futhamucka try to show some class_

Don't drink the last cup  
We keep it boiling hot  
We keep the party moving till we drink the last drop

Let's be traditional

_And non-commissionable  
Got my elbows down, pinkies up  
That's the way you sip my cup_

* * *

Author's notes: So so so so so sorry for the delay. Between school and my health, I just didn't have time to work on this. Hopefully I can pick things back up soon. Thanks so much for supporting me and putting up with my terrible slowness, everyone!

So, our (anti-)heroes, everyone: a druggie, his barely pubescent sidekick, a prostitute, a rave-kid, and a high-society ice queen. Quite the ragtag group of misfits, if I do say so myself. They're only a team in the vaguest sense right now, mostly because none of them have the same motives right now. But they could probably come together, if they find a common end.

Something to think about in regards to this story: it is (supposed to be, anyway; I'll let you guys decide how well I'm succeeding) a sort of neo-noir western. And on thing that both those genres have in common is that they are "no-woman's lands". So, being me, I decided to play this backwards, and create a "no-man's land" of sorts. Of the six main characters, Roy is the only guy. In fact, he's the only named male to appear on-screen at all. It's not really thematic, exactly, it's just something that's true about this story's setting. Roy is very much surrounded by powerful, seductive women. So, as he's a manly-man, he's very much playing up his masculinity- he is, after all, the only one who has any.

So the backstory with Jinx is basically the plot of _Breaking Free_. I _think_ it should make sense to people who haven't read that story, but I'm really sorry if it doesn't! And for _Breaking Free_/_Hope on a String_ readers- this is Roy's side of the story. Doesn't make what he did any less awful, but at least it explains what he was thinking.

Also, a little riddle I posed in the last chapter that nobody answered: the first person who figures out what I'm hinting at about Evelyn and Mercury Lace gets to request a one-shot! Also, I will write one-shots for fanart. XD(FYI I'll write pretty much anything as long as it doesn't break up RobStar or Flinx, and I since most of my stories are in the same continuity, I'd prefer to stay within that continuity. I also don't like to go above a T rating, but that's a bit more negotiable. XD)

Title and lyrics from "Tea Party" by Kerli. Because it's an Alice in Wonderland reference, and because that "futhamucka" line just gets me every time. Originally this chapter was "Sound of the Underground" and ch. 14 was "Tea Party", but I decided it made more sense the other way around.


	6. Everything

Everything

_Jade_

What kind of person keeps blush in Tupperware?

This is what I'm thinking, as I stumble upon the plastic containers full of pale pink powder, stacked in a neat pile under my client's bathroom sink. The first question that comes to my mind is not- as it probably should be- why he has blush at all. Even if it was, though, the answer would be obvious: either he's a drag queen or he's cheating on me. And neither of those would matter, really, because I am the farthest thing from an honest girlfriend myself.

No, the first question that comes to mind is why he would keep it in Tupperware. There's no sign of the original containers anywhere, but the blush itself is pristine; it's still in perfect square cakes. It did not just crumble out of the packing. Impressive, really since it's not even expensive blush- I know the smell of Maybelline anywhere.

So I guess I'm sleeping with closeted drag queen. I don't know why he'd move it to the Tupperware, though. Maybe he thinks it looks less suspicious. But, really, everybody knows you don't keep Tupperware in the bathroom, so I'm not sure who he's trying to fool.

"Amandine, what are you doing?" he asks, rapping on the bathroom door. I stole that name from a girl I knew at the brothel. I think it's supposed to sound French. Either way my names always seem to begin in "A". Like I'm a long lost sister from _The Little Mermaid_.

"Just looking for my hairbrush," I say. I really did lose it. I'm such a ditz.

"It's in your bag" he tells me. I could hit myself. Of _course_ I left it there. And now I'm wasting time and he's probably about to get pissed at me.

"Hurry up, will you?" he snaps. "I have to get ready for work and if I'm late…"

I pocket one of the boxes, and am out of the bathroom before he can finish that thought.

* * *

Roy, sprawled across the couch with a book, smiles as soon as I walk through the door. "Hey, baby, how was work?"

He's so sweet. God, he doesn't have to ask me that. He's not my boyfriend. He doesn't have to care. But he does anyway, everytime, without fail.

The last week or so has been something of a blur of parties and sex and, well, mostly sex. Some of it for work- he calls it work, even though we both know what it really is- but most of it with Roy. I've known him for, what, a month now? And yet I can't imagine having ever _not_ known him. He's quickly become the best friend I've ever had.

"Fine," I tell him. I sit down next to him, and he pulls himself up, slides me close to him and begins to rub my neck.

"Mmm… That feels really nice," I sigh, letting my body ease into his. It is comfortable, somehow. Being in his arms. "So what'd you do all day?"

"Found this in your bedroom," he says, showing me the book. _Alice in Wonderland_. I smile.

"My favorite."

He looks at the floor, blushing. "Yeah, well, don't say I never did anything for you."

"I never would've."

He smiles, weakly, the gesture only extending to half his face. There is, for a fragment of a second, a glimmer of light in his dim blue-grey eyes. I've noticed that happens, from time to time. In moments like these.

"Hey, wanna see something weird?" I ask.

"Sure," he says. I reach into my bag and pull out the Tupperware container. He turns it around in his hands, one eyebrow raised. "Fuck is that?"

"Blush," I tell him. "I found it my client's bathroom."

"Thought you were the only one he was seeing?"

"I thought so too," I say. "But I guess not. Or he's a drag queen."

He chuckles at that, then says, "Well, either way, I still don't like the sound of this guy."

"He'a a client."

" He's mean to you." Roy turns his head towards the window. It is a very sunny day. In the light his skin and hair seem brighter than copper. "He hits you."

"It was just the one time," I remind him. "Anyway, it's not like I have a say in the matter."

He bites his lip. "How much longer do you have to see him?"

"I don't know," I answer. "Until Magdalena gives me the go-ahead, I guess."

Roy stares out the window for what seems like a very long time. He is a very handsome man. Muscular and tan, a hint of stubble across his jaw. His features have a classic look to them- a fairytale prince, when the light hits him the right way. I don't see him in this sort of light very often. He, I have noticed, shies away from it.

He looks back at me, grinning again. "So do you have plans for tonight?"

"No," I say. "Why?"

"I'm thinking we should hang out," he says. "Go somewhere. Just you and me."

"You don't have to meet with Emma?" I ask. The two of them have been training most evenings for the last few days.

He shakes his head. "She seemed tired yesterday. I gave her the night off."

"Is she okay?" I ask.

"She's fine" he reassures me. "I just figured it was, you know, girl stuff?" He seems so nervous saying that that I can't help but giggle. "Anyway, she's been doing great lately. Thought she deserved a break."

"Well, alright then," I say. "Did you have anything in mind."

"I dunno," he says. "Whatever you want."

I shrug. "I can't afford much."

"I'll pay."

Gosh. That's so sweet. I feel like kissing him, all of a sudden. I press my lips against him and push him onto his back. "Wanna have some fun first."

"Fuck, Jade, I've never seen you this forward," he laughs. "What'd that guy do to you?"

"Well, that's the thing," I say. I swing my legs on either side of his body and lean in to kiss him again. "As soon as _he_ was done, he just pulled out and told me he had a meeting."

"Told you he was an ass," Roy murmurs, leaving warm breathes in my mouth. He pulls my shirt over my head, then trails a hand down my back towards the waistline of my skirt.

"Well good thing _you're_ not an ass," I tell him, undoing the button of his jeans but not bothering with the zipper before I pull them down, leaving him in just his t-shirt and boxers.

He smirks, pulling the shirt over his head. "I wouldn't go _that_ far." He flips me over and kisses me, hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. He takes off my skirt before he breaks the kiss, inching a hand towards my bra.

"I'm just a different _kind_ of ass, is all."

I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a flirtatious smile. "I can live with that."

* * *

We end up going to a Mexican place with outdoor seating. The terrace has a brick floor and a wooden overhead strung with flowers and little paper lanterns, and there is a man playing acoustic guitar and singing in Spanish.

Gosh, it looks so fancy.

"Is this gonna be too expensive?" I whisper. "Because I don't want you to have to…"

"Jade, I don't mind," Roy insists. "Really. I _want_ to treat you to this."

I feel meek. "Really?"

He wraps an arm around my waist. "Yeah. Hell knows you deserve someone to treat you nicely."

I try to smile and it comes out feeling like tears. "Thank you."

"No big," he says, shrugging.

When we're seated, out waitress gives us menus and, to my surprise, a platter of tortilla chips and salsa. I glance over the menu and start to giggle. "They serve cactus. I didn't know you eat that!

"Tastes like pickles," Roy says, digging into the salsa. "They've also got birria."

"What's that?"

"Goat stew."

My eyes go wide. "You're kidding!"

"Nope,' he says.. I glance at the menu. They do, in fact, serve goat stew. He laughs at my expression. "It's a really authentic Mexican thing, most places don't serve it" he explains. "Haven't seen some of this stuff since I left the southwest."

"That's right, you're from here," I say. He's talked about being Navajo pretty frequently, and I remember him mentioning it to Evelyn. "Arizona, right?"

"Originally, yeah," he replies.

"What was it like?" I ask. I take a bite of the salsa, expecting it to be spicy, but it's more sweet, hints of mango and bell peppers.

He raises an eyebrow. "Okay, if I have to talk about my childhood you have to talk about yours."

I giggle. "Fair enough. Question game?" I suggest.

"Fine," he replies. His voice is gruff, but he's grinning ear-to-ear. "You first."  
"Okay, umm…" I lean against my hand, pondering what to ask him. He's mentioned before that his parents are dead. I guess that's a place to start. "What were your parents like?"

"My biological parents?"

"Yeah."

"Don't remember them," he answers, "My dad died when I was I was a baby, and apparently my mom was never in the picture. How 'bout yours?"

"Well, my…" I stop, realizing that he has purposefully specified my question to shorten his answer. "Hey, that's cheating!"

"Is not. I answered the question, You're fault for not being specific."

I playfully wag my finger at him, laughing. "Anyway, um, my mom was a hooker." He nods. He already knows that. "And I think my father was a client. I never met him and she never told me his name. I did know he was French, though," I add.

"My mom…" I continue. "I don't remember her that well, but… She was nice. And pretty. And she always smelled like honey. I… It's like, I don't remember the specifics, but… But I remember how much she loved me." I feel like I could start crying.

Roy reaches across the table and takes one of my hands, pressing gently. "Your turn," he whispers. "Promise not to cheat."

That makes me smile, a little. "So who raised you, then?" I ask.

"My biological dad…"

"Roy Harper Senior?" I joke.

"Roy Harper Senior," he confirms, "was a forest ranger in Tuba City. When I was maybe sixteen months old, there was a forest fire on the Navajo reservation. He died saving the life of one of the medicine chiefs, Brave Bow. When none of my relatives offered to take me in, Brave Bow did. Raised me like I was his own son."

He reaches for a chip. "That a complete enough answer?' he asks, mouth full.

"You're good, you pig," I giggle.

He laughs. "So, uh… How'd you slip through the cracks?"  
I tilt my head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… You were seven years old in a brothel. How did no one notice? You know, the police, child protective services?"

I've never thought of it that way."New York City, mid-nineties?" I suggest. "I don't know. I didn't go to school very consistently, so my not showing up wasn't going to ring any alarms. And a low-class hooker getting killed isn't exactly the kind of case that makes headlines, especially since she wasn't white. And he picked the brothel carefully. It was the underground kind, where the pimps aren't above having a seven-year-old on hand and the girls are all too scared of the pimps to go to the authorities about it." I shrug. "Just bad luck, I guess."

"Pretty damn bad," he muses.

Our waitress comes back just then to take our order. We wind up deciding to split the cactus appetizer I couldn't stop giggling about, and he, thankfully, does not order the goat, though the chicken dish he does order sounds equally exotic. I play it much safer, going for a bean enchilada. I can't pronounce the name and the waitress's English isn't great, so he tells her for me, in Spanish that, to my untrained ear, sounds flawless.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

He grins fiendishly."Is that your question?" He plays this game to win, even though that is not the point if it.

I pretend to think hard about it. I _am_ curious now. "Okay."

"Yeah, everyone learns it in elementary schools around here, and I just kept taking it. It was like the one class I actually did well in in middle school." he says with a shrug. "Navajo was actually kind of my first language, but as soon as I started kindergarten I switched to English. I'm really rusty these days. So…" He thinks for his next question. "How'd you end up in the biz?"

"Well, when I was eleven I left the brothel, and I was on the streets for a little while," I begin. "I was begging for food, which is how I met Wen Ch'ang, and he took me in…"

"So long as you slept with him," Roy interjects. He seems… Angry. Not at me. Angry at Ch'ang.

"Really, it's not a big deal," I say, smiling gently. "I didn't mind." His just looks at me, eyes softer than usual.

"Anyway," I continue, "he knew martial arts and when he saw that I was interested he started teaching me. And after about two years I realized I'd surpassed him and…" Hm. I don't know. "I guess I just got tired of being there."

"So I hopped the rails and I ended up here. I was pick-pocketing and getting into gang fights and I kept winning, which I guess caught the attention of the Sirens. When I was fourteen they asked if I wanted them to represent me and I needed money, so I said yes. I picked the name Cheshire 'cause I like _Alice in Wonderland_ and… Well, I've been doing it ever since."

He's still looking at me funny. Is he condemning me? Because I'm a villain? Because I didn't think of a better way to support myself? I wouldn't be surprised. I smile nervously and say, "Same question How'd you get in the biz?"

"Um…" It takes him a to get going. He seems like he's thinking about something. "When I was nine, Brave Bow got sick- liver cancer- and needed someone to take care of me. There were plenty of people on the reservation who would have taken me in, but…"

"He wrote me a letter," Roy continues, his expression serious. "For Ollie to give to me when I turned eighteen. What he said in it was that, that even though I could have just stayed on the reservation, had a normal life, he believed that I was meant for something… More. Said it came to him in a dream." He trails off. This is hard for him, clearly. I reach across the table and take his hand, like he did earlier for me. He smiles.

"Anyway, I'm nine and I'm like obsessed with archery, for whatever reason. So he hatches this scheme to get Green Arrow to judge an archery contest on the reservation. I won, and in the process I helped Ollie out with some burglary, so… I don't know if he talked to Brave Bow or if Brave Bow talked to him, but, one way or another, when Ollie went back to Pasadena, I wound up going with him," He nods solemnly. "Brave Bow didn't want me to watch him die.  
"I went to the funeral, but after that I never went back. Ollie started training me and my biggest strength's always been that I'm a quick shot, way faster than him, so he started calling me Speedy." He chuckles darkly. "Turned out it fit in more ways than one."

Our waitress comes back with our food just as he finishes his story. I take a bite- it's quite good, though I suppose I'm not really the right person ask. I've only been to this nice a restaurant maybe once or twice in my life.

Roy takes a bite of his own meal, and stares at it rather intently while he asks, "You don't have to answer this one, okay?"

"Yes I do, it's the Question Game," I say.

He looks up at me. "Well I'm giving you a get out of jail free card. If it you want me to I'll switch the question."

"Well, what is it?" I ask. I think it comes out sounding timid.

"How are you so nice?"

What?

He notices my confusion, and starts talking rapidly, trying to explain. "I just mean… God, Jade you were seven years old and a guy raped you, cut up your face, killed your mother, and then sold you to a brothel. Then when you finally got out of the you were practically a fucking slave to that guy for two years and then you run away from _that_ and come here and lived on the streets until you get an offer to be a supervillain that you had to take just because you're desperate for money!" He exclaims. He shakes his head, like he's trying to shake off the emotion.

"I guess what I'm asking is… You're so _sweet_. And idealistic and just…" He seems to cut that sentence off. I can't help but wonder what was next. "How did you survive all that and not be completely destroyed?"

He's…

He's not condemning me.

Any other hero, any other _guy_ would…

Why is he so nice to me?

"I…" I feel like I'm going to cry again. "The truth is, I'm… I'm so ashamed of the things that I've done. I don't _like_ being a villain, but… But it was that or starve on the streets and it's the best living conditions I've ever had and…" I can't hold it back anymore. I start to cry. "And do you really think I'm nice?"  
Roy stands up, walks to my side of the table, and wraps me in his arms. "Nicest girl I've ever met," he whispers.

"And I didn't even answer your question," I sob.

He makes a soft shushing noise and kisses the top of my head. It gives me butterflies. I don't remember the last time I felt that. "Yeah, you did," he whispers.

He holds me until I stop crying and then returns to his seat. "So I guess since I made you cry, it's only fair I tell you about the drugs, huh?"

I smile weakly. "It was my next question," I admit. "You don't have to, though."

"Yeah, I do," he decides. He takes a bite of his chicken, chews and swallows slowly, thinking.

The guitarist's upbeat tune has shifted into something more somber. I can't understand the words, but he's singing like his heart is breaking. I almost think it might be because of me. I guess two kids tearfully embracing on a restaurant terrace seems like something you write a song about.

"Ollie and Dinah- Black Canary- started dating when I was thirteen, in seventh grade," Roy begins. "He'd always been more like a brother than a dad to me, but this really put a strain on us. I was pretty pissed that he was spending all his time with her and they had some really serious case goin' on and they thought it was too dangerous, so I couldn't even be that involved with crime fighting. Anyway, I went to public middle school and I was kind of hanging out with the wrong crowd. There were four of us- me, Danny, Alec and Sam- and we were getting in all sorts of trouble, just stupid kid stuff. One day Danny's older brother was having a party while their parents were out of down and we all went. And it was one of those wild high school parties so there was alcohol and pot and we just thought it was the coolest thing that we were hanging out with all these older kids and they were drinking and smoking so we started drinking and smoking…" He scoffs. "I mean, how else was that gonna turn out?"

"So that was right at the end of seventh grade, and that summer we'd hang out and get into trouble and get drunk, smoke, sometimes use pot. It wasn't too serious. Then, um, Halloween, we decided to go trick-or-treating. You know, 'ironically'." He puts air quotes on that. "We went as like zombie Backstreet Boys or something 'cause we thought it was cool and subversive."

"Backstreet Boys are _totally_ cool," I giggle. "Have you not heard their come-back song?"

He wiggles his eyebrows, flirting. "I was A.J."

I give an exaggerated snap of my fingers. "Darn, 'cause I was just in love with Nick. Twelve-year-old me would have just been all over you if only you'd picked him. "

"But A.J. had tattoos," he jokingly protests. "He was _so_ much hotter."

"The tattoos _were_ nice." I press a finger to my lips, then point it at him. "You would have been my second choice."

"So close," he says, smiling. "Anyway, we scored some prescription pills off of some high school kids and that was the first time I got high. We started using pretty regularly. We were still just playing around, but… "

"Ollie and I had started fighting more and more and then when Christmas rolled around he and Dinah decided to go on a vacation by themselves and I felt… Abandoned, I guess. He and I got in this fucking shouting match the day before they left, calling each other all these names, and I stormed out the house and hitchhiked to the worst part of LA I could think of looking for someone to beat up." His smile has faded. The guitarist sounds wistful, distant. "Instead, I found a dealer."

"They called him Magic Mac," he says. His eyes are blank, and you could barely call them blue. They are, instead, the color of water. "He gave me my first hit of heroin, taught me how to shoot up, and… Well, that was that. I kept going back to get high and I was addicted within weeks."

"I got the guys involved. Sam got scared and backed out, but me, Alec, and Danny started using every day. We were going to parties, sleeping around, trying like every drug in the book. Heroin was always my vice, though. Pretty soon it was the only thing keeping me going. I was just mad at everything and the only time I was happy was when I was high. And once the withdrawal started kicking in even that didn't matter. All that mattered was the drugs."

"So I was going to school and fighting crime high," he continues. "I barely passed eighth grade. The night of my graduation ceremony I'm at some party getting all jacked up and when I get home Dinah and Ollie are waiting for me. Turns out she'd taken it upon herself to clean my room and when she did she found my stash. I tried to deny it but I was high as shit and they could tell. Next thing I knew they were shipping me off to rehab."

He sighs, his gaze fixated on nothing in particular. The sun has gone down and the paper lanterns are bright. They seem to sway in time with the music, like ballerinas. "The thing about recovery," he says, "is that, no matter what anybody else does, you can't get better if you don't want to. And I didn't. I had to go when he told me to 'cause I was a minor, but Ollie sending me there just made me even angrier at him. I went through the motions of rehab but as soon as I got out I went right back on. I just got smarter about it- did my chores, got good grades, made myself look normal in front of them. Then I'd sneak out at night. Alec and I got in some fight, so for a while I didn't have any friends, which just made me use more. Then at the end of freshmen year there was some dance and this girl I was dating- and by dating I mean corrupting- wanted me to take her. Ollie thought I was clean so he let me as like a reward. Afterwards me, her and Alec told our parents we were going to Danny's and we got his brother to cover for us while we went to a party. I was on like everything they had and… I ODed."

"I don't remember the rest of that night. Danny, he got clean when I did, and we still talk sometimes. He told me afterwards that, the girl- Francesca, we called her Frankie- she was new to the scene and she'd never seen someone OD before. He said she freaked out, called 911. She, uh… She saved my life. I never saw her again after that."

"I woke up in the hospital," he says. "It was the only time I've ever seen Ollie cry. I mean, he was _furious _but… But he begged me to stop. He put me back rehab and that time I actually tried. I don't know why it was different. Guess I just didn't want to die. Been clean and sober ever since."

He shrugs. "So that's it, I guess. Ollie took me outta public school after that and had me homeschooled and I wound up finishing a year early, so when Robin asked me to join Titans East last year, I figured why not? Didn't have a reason to stay in Pasadena anymore."

He presses his lips together and clumsily takes a cigarette from his pocket. He looks at me, guiltily. "Sorry, I know you don't…"

"It's okay," I say gently. I smile at him. "Thank you. For telling me that."

He lights up, the spark illuminating his face for just a split second. "Yeah, well… Thanks for listening."

* * *

After I finish eating, I excuse myself to go to bathroom. When I get back, I find the table empty. While I'm staring at of the waitresses- a tall blonde who's nametag reads "Gayle"- spots me.

"Oh, hey" she says, "your boyfriend asked me to…"

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend," I tell her. Where'd she get that from?

She looks shocked. "Really? The way he looks at you I thought for sure…" She shrugs, a sort of "who knew" meant more for herself then for me. "Well either way, he said to tell you got a call from, um, Emily, I think?"

"Emma?"

She nods. "That's it. Anyway, he wasn't get reception so he stepped out onto the street. Said he'll be back in a minute. Didn't want you to think he bailed on you."

I smile nervously. "Right, thanks." I sit back down to wait for him and she leaves.

The way he looks at me?

Roy's cigarette is stubbed out in the ashtray and smoke makes slow-moving spirals in the air. I think of the caterpillar from _Alice in Wonderland_. He was crazy, but weren't they all?

The way he looks at me?

Roy is, just as the waitress said, back within a minute. "Hey," he says, "sorry, I just got a call from-"

"Em, yeah," I say. "One of the waitresses explained. Why'd she call?"

He shakes his head. "She's like freaking out, I don't know what about. I said to meet us your place."

"Yeah, of course," I say, worried. I reach for my purse. "Did you-"

"I already paid," he answers, before I even finish the question. I stand up and start the walk back to the apartment.

"Did, um… Did you have a nice time tonight?" he asks.

"Yeah," I answer. "Thank you. For taking me."

He doesn't say anything. He just looks at me, smiling.

* * *

Emma is sitting by the door when we get back, holding her knees against her chest, her face streaked with mud and tears.

I hand Roy my keys and kneel down next to her, "Em, what's wrong?" I ask, as he opens the door.

"Um, um…" she stutters. She seems traumatized.

I take her by the arm and help her stand up. "Come inside, okay?"

Once she's sitting on the couch, Roy heads to the kitchenette. "Hot chocolate or tea?" he asks.

"Hot chocolate," she chokes out. After that she starts crying, full waterworks out of almost nowhere.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "Emma, what's wrong?"

"Um…" She's hyperventilating and can barely get a syllable out. "I was… I was in this alleyway… On my way h-home, and… And this guy jumped me and…"

"What?" I exclaim, clasping a hand over my mouth. "Emma, are you okay?"

She sobs and nods. "I, um, I shot an arrow in his foot. And then I dropped my bow and ran away and called Roy and…" Her crying becomes too heavy for her to say anything else and I hold her in my arms.

Roy brings her a mug of hot chocolate. "Good shot, kid," he murmurs, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Sweetie, do you wanna sleep over tonight?" I ask. She nods rapidly. I slip into my bedroom to get sheets for the couch.

When I come back, Roy is embracing her, as she trembles and sobs into his chest.

I find myself stopping in my tracks, just to stare at him. That's so kind. He's just so…

Oh. Oh, my god.

I'm in love with him.

_You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall.  
You steal my heart, and you take my breath away.  
_

* * *

Author's Notes:

So sorry for the delay. I've been focusing on _Hope on a String_ for a while because I want to get it done, but hopefully I'll be able to focus more on this story soon. Also, I've been messing with the summary again and I'm still not happy with it. If you guys have any suggestions please let me know! I mean, how do you describe a neo-noir western superhero romance in 300 characters or less? XD

So this kind of became the backstory chapter. Sorry if it's a bit too much talk and information in this chapter, I just really wanted the details of Roy and Jade's histories to be established.

There's sort of two really significant character things that happen in this chapter. One is, obviously, Jade realizing she has feelings for Roy. Which I don't really have anything to say about except "awww". XD The other is when Roy asks Jade why she has managed to remain such a sweet, idealistic person despite her history. This is significant on two levels. First off, it's significant because, well, she _is_. She's just an incredibly sweet, lovely girl and that, especially given her story, is remarkable, I think. She doesn't realize it, but it is. Second: Roy had exactly the moment he was looking for. She admitted she hates being a villain, that she's scared and ashamed and wants out. This is exactly what he's wanted her to say the whole time. But he didn't preposition her. He doesn't ask her to leave with him. Now he couldn't explain himself because he wasn't narrating this particular chapter, so I will explain him here. He didn't do this, despite that fact that it had been his goal for the story so far, partly because he has realized that (as he noted last chapter) he can't go back anymore- he signed a contract and now he feels obligated to keep it- but mostly because, despite all of his jackass bravado, he knows that it would be selfish. He's in love with her, and he doesn't just want to sleep with her for his own sake anymore. He legiteamately wants to do what's best for her, to be there for her, and he knows uprooting her life isn't it.

For the record, everything I know about drug addiction comes from _Beautiful Boy_ by David Sheff and _Tweak_ by Nic Sheff, which are fantastic books that I highly recommend. You know, in case anyone was wondering. XD They're actually about meth more than heroin but whatevs. XD Also for the record, the Backstreet Boys song that Jade is referring to is "Incomplete", which would have been new when this story is set (summer of 2005, roughly 6 months after the end of the series/4 months after the end of _Breaking Free_, the story this spun-off of. Have I mentioned that before? I have a bunch of ridiculous math to explain how I got that date, if anybody cares. XD)

Lastly, I'm so sorry I haven't replied to reviews in a while! I'm trying to get back to that for both my ongoing stories. Please don't take it personally if I missed yours! And congrats to muddie, who wins a one-shot! (and a cookie XD) :D Please pm me or leave a review with your request! Be as specific or unspecific as you like. XD (As I've mentioned before, my only requirements are: I won't break up RobxStar or Flinx, and I'd prefer to keep in the same continuity as the rest of my stories. I'd also prefer to stay within a T-rating or below, though that last one is somewhat more negotiable.)

Title and lyrics from "Everything" by Lifehouse. So I could have sworn that song was a love song but then when I was looking up the lyrics, I learned that a lot of people think it's about religion? Go figure, I guess? I still think it's a love song, and it's pretty either way. XD


	7. White Rabbit

White Rabbit

_Roy_

_You have __**1**__ unread message._

_To: Harper, Roy_

_From: Humphrey, Lauren_

_Subject: What the fuck, Roy?_

_Roy,_

_I promised myself I was not going to yell at you, so, no matter how many capitals letters I use, please don't look at this at yelling._

_But SERIOUSLY, Roy? SERIOUSLY?_

_When you stopped showing at NA a couple months ago and the papers were all "Speedy's on personal leave", I thought for sure you'd fallen off the wagon. So imagine my surprise when I get a call from your teammates telling me you've FLOWN THE COUP. Honestly, Roy, I'd almost RATHER you were fucking using again because at least then I'd know where you are._

_So the story is that you're chasing after a girl. Which, okay, you're eighteen. Understandable. But to just run off and not tell anyone where you went? Have you just gone insane or something?_

_Where are you, Roy? Where are you and what are you doing there?_

_Look, I know I'm your sponsor, but I'm also your friend. I care about you, Roy. And I'm worried. I wouldn't ACTUALLY prefer you to be using again, okay? You've come too far._

_PLEASE write me back, Roy. Just, let me know that you're alive and clean and I promise I'll leave you alone._

_-Lauren_

I log out of the computer. I bought myself half-an-hour at this internet café and now I'm leaving after using five minutes. That's pathetic.

Lauren and I met at Narcotics Anonymous last year. I'd had another sponsor in Pasadena but we didn't really keep in touch after I moved to Steel. Ollie said it would be a good idea for me to have someone local. I didn't want to at first, if only because I didn't want to do anything he told me, but I was "committed to recovery", or whatever they call it. Lauren's twenty-nine and she's been clean five years, since she got pregnant with her daughter. I picked her 'cause she tells it like it is and rides a motorcycle to meetings.

Em and I are supposed to meet Magdalena at four which gives me an hour to kill. I walk outside and find a bench to light up on. The sun beats down heavy- summers in the southwest are always hot as hell. I take a drag and lean my head back as I exhale, staring up at the sky.

I am a _loser_.

This has become very clear to me over the last day or so. I suck. I did not think any of this through very well. Jade'll never love me back, why would she? She could have any guy she wanted- a guy who's not a junkie and who doesn't do stupid impulsive things like follow girls he doesn't know to Santa Fe. And even if she did love me, this was a still a shitty half-ass plan. It's not like I ever expected her to come back to Steel with me and suddenly become a superhero. I knew that wouldn't work. I just didn't bother to think of something that actually would.

So now here I am. I have a friends-with-benefits situation with the girl I love, a contract that more or less makes me a supervillain, and a heart that hurts like fuck.

Lauren is right. I have lost my fucking mind.

Something skitters across the ground a few feet away from me. When I look closer, I see that it's a horned lizard, I have no idea what kind, almost the exact same shade of light brown as his dusty surroundings. I would never have noticed him if he hadn't moved.

I remember learning about horned lizards as a kid. They can squirt blood from their eyes, a defense mechanism that makes them taste bad to cats and dogs. It seems like it'd be a decent plan, but I wonder how they do that without losing too much. How they don't just bleed themselves to death.

* * *

We have not been able to recover Emma's bow since she lost it the other day. Despite that, she meets me inside of Magdalena's hotel room clutching the battered old violin case she totes her supplies around in. I don't know where she got it; as far as I know she does not own an actual violin. To my surprise, Jade is there with her.

"Jade, hey," I say, feeling myself start to smile. I don't put a stop it, for some stupid reason or other. "I didn't know you were coming to this."

She smiles back, briefly looking at the ground as her face turns a shade of light pink. I've noticed she's been doing that a lot lately.

"I didn't either," she replies. "Magdalena just called me up like ten minutes ago."

"Huh," I say. I swing myself over the back of the couch and onto the seat next to her. "So where is she?"

Jade shrugs. "The door was unlocked, but she wasn't here."

"Weird," I reply. I point a finger at Emma. "Works out, though. I got a present for you."

I reach into the pocket of my jacket and pull out a revolver, six inches with a wooden handle. Emma's jaw drops.

"A gun?"

"Call yourself Bullet, don't you?" I ask. I press the gun into her hands. "Thought you were ready."

"Where'd you buy that?" Jade asks. "Don't you have to be twenty-one?"

"Black market," I explain, with a shrug. "Took me all morning to find a decent one. Guy said it was a Colt but I think it's a knockoff." She giggles at that, her noise crinkling as she laughs. God, she's pretty.

"Mind if I take a look?"

Magdalena has entered the room, and is standing in the doorway looking at me imposingly. As she walks to the armchair across from the couch, Evelyn and Mercury Lace come in behind her, and the door shuts with a thud.

"Go ahead," I say. I nod at Emma, and she hands the gun to Magdalena, who inspects it.

"Not bad," she tells me. "Definitely a knockoff. I assume you paid cash?"

"Completely untraceable," I answer.

"Good," she answers, smiling at me sickeningly sweet. She tosses the gun back to me. "Make sure she's ready to use it tomorrow. I've decided I want you all there for our little… Train Job."

Evelyn laughs. "Train Job, like from _Firefly_? That's…" Magdalena glares at her and she shuts up.

"As I was saying, before I was interrupted," Magdalena coos, "we'll be meeting at the train station tomorrow at… 0600."

"0600?" Emma whispers to me.

"Six in the morning," I explain.

"And don't be late," Magdalena adds. She's overheard us, clearly. "I'll expect you in uniform. And, Roy?"

She's looking at me like I'm a bug. "Yeah?"

"That means you'll need a new one. I can't have a recognizable hero spoiling my operation."

Well where the fuck am I gonna get a new suit overnight? "Got it," I say. "New costume."

Magdalena smiles. "Meeting adjourned." The rest of us all start to move towards the door, until she stands up and pushes Evelyn into a chair.

"Except you," she says, her smile fading fast. "We need to talk."

Evelyn is staring at her, wide-eyed and trembling. Mercury Lace, who has been standing with her back to the wall, arms crossed, walks over to them.

"Magdalena, if this is about the breach," she begins, coolly. Magdalena does not give her a chance to finish.

"Out," she snaps. She turns to Jade, Emma and I. "Or do you all want to be punished?"

Jade puts a hand on my back. "Let's go," she whispers.

I glance over my shoulder as we slip out the door. Mercury Lace does not leave. She is standing her ground on this one. I think that makes the rest of us cowards.

* * *

"Fuck, what was that about?" I ask, as soon as we get back to Jade's apartment.

Jade shakes her head. "Evelyn must've breached contract or something."

"So she's _punishing_ her?"

Jade presses a hand to a cheek, her eyes glassy. It kills me to see her looking so sad. Every time.

"It does sound bad when you put it that way," she murmurs.

Emma has sat down on the couch, her violin case on her lap. I slump down next to her. "Who says she can boss you guys around like that, anyway? She's just another girl from your agency, right?"

Jade shakes her head. "She's the client," she says. "Completely independent, I think. She just…" She sighs and sinks onto the couch. "Needed some henchmen. We have to do whatever she tells us."

"That goes for you too," Emma states, not looking at me.

"We're not guild," Jade explains. "So she can pretty much treat us however she wants."

"Guild?" I ask.

"International Guild of Ethical Villainy," she says, with a shrug. "Like hiring workers from union. Sirens is more…" she pauses, searching for the right word. "Underground, then that." Would explain why I'd never heard of them before, I guess.

Jade looks up at me suddenly, grinning. "So, new look."

I groan and roll my eyes. "Oh, God, Jade, why don't I just wear jeans?"

"C'mon, it'll be fun," Jade begs, giving me her puppy dig eyes. Damn puppy dog eyes.

"Alright, fine," I sigh. "But make it fast, I need to teach Em how to work her revolver. What do you have in mind?"  
Jade looks me up and down. "I don't know," she says. "You'll need a name first."

A name.

Well, I guess that makes sense. If I'm never going back- and there's no way I can go back- then I guess Speedy is dead. I might as well let him rest in peace.

"Something foreboding," Emma quips.

I scoff and give her a playful whack on the knee. "Do I detect sarcasm from the girl who calls herself Bullet but can't shoot a gun?"

They both giggle. "You could call yourself Junkie," Jade teases. "Or Tobacco-y."

"Oh, can it, Miss 'I Named Myself After A Disney Movie'."

"It's a classic piece of children's literature," she protests, laughing.

Hm. I did read that book a few days ago. Wasn't bad either. And probably written on drugs, too, which is kind of a plus, in my mind.

"What about Jabberwock?" I suggest.

Jade bends over and laughs until she turns red. "Jabberwock?" she exclaims. "You do know that's a parody of bad poetry, right?"

It is? "I thought he was a badass monster," I grumble.

"Well, he is, but…" Jade's laughing too hard to finish.

"Does that make me a mome rath?" Emma asks. She seems positively disgusted by that thought. I don't even remember what a fucking mome rath is.

"Well, I'm going with it," I decide. "If anybody asks it's a parody of bad villain names." I grab Emma by the hand. "C'mon. We've got one night for you to learn to shoot."

"I'll find you a costume," Jade giggles, as we head for the door.

Her laughter, like her voice, is soft and ethereal and lovely. It makes my heart skip a beat, every time. I've had a lot of girlfriends, but I've never been in love before.

It's quite the high.

* * *

"…and then you just pull the trigger."

As much as I hate to risk shooting a gun where other people might hear, I just don't have a way to get us out of the city. So Emma and I have returned to the alley where we began her training. It's a seedy enough district that it's practically abandoned anyway. The sun has started to set, and the air smells like dust. I half expect a tumbleweed to roll across the street.

Emma's expression is somewhere between fear and disbelief. "That's it?"

"That's it," I reply.

She stares at the revolver. "What's the catch?"

"Well, it's a gun. If you're not careful you'll wind up with a bullet in your brain."

She laughs. Emma she seems to be warming up to me. She's just as shy and timid as ever, but she smiles more, sometimes even jokes around. Her sense of humor, it turns out, is a morbid one.

"So fire away," I say.

"Where should I aim?" she asks.

Good question. I stretch my arms behind my head and glance around the alley, trying to figure out how she can shoot without killing one of us.

"Aim for inside the dumpster," I suggest. It's a small opening, but her aim is her biggest strength. She can make it.

She lifts the gun and, after considering the shot for a while, lets it go. The bullet whizzes into the dumpster, ripping a hole into the trash bag with a dull clang.

"Good," I say. "Keep going."

As she fires a few more shots, I open up her violin case. Almost all of it's stuff I got for her. There's a knife and a couple of arrows, handgun ammo, some first aid stuff- band-aids, a bottle of anti-septic- and, to my surprise, a violin bow. I dig through one of the pockets up top, and find some crumpled pieces of sheet music.

"You play?" I ask, holding one of the pieces up.

She glances at the paper in my hand. "Yeah." She shrugs, eyes on her feet. "Well, I did before I lost my violin."

Hm. That explains her hand-eye coordination, if nothing else. "How'd you lose it?"

"On a job last year," she says blankly.

I decide not to push her any further. "Same job where you met Jade?"

"Yeah."

"You guys seem close."

She shrugs. "Yeah."

I think about asking her more, but I decide not to. I really don't want to use this kid, a pawn in my play for Jade's affection, but I know I am. It makes me feel bad, for her and about myself.

"I've never done a field job before," she says nervously. "Do you really think I'm ready?"

There's an apple core on the ground next to me. I toss it on top of the dumpster.

"You tell me," I say. "Slice it in half."

She fires one shot, splitting the apple into two even pieces.

Clearly, Ollie has taught me well.

* * *

When I get back, Jade has arranged an outfit on her bed. "It's not much," she says, "but it's all I could work out on such short notice."

It's mostly just regular clothes, not a real "super-suit", but she's done what she could to make them look badass. She's cut a v-neck into the red sleeveless top from my old costume, flipped it backwards to hide the "S", and drawn a "J" on it with what looks like Sharpie. She's paired that with a pair of black jeans- holes artfully cut into the knees- and a leather jacket, as well as the gloves from my old costume and a black belt with a heavy silver buckle.

I guess this is it, then. I guess this makes me a villain.

"I like it," I tell her. It's not a lie. Not really.

"I know I was making fun of it earlier," she says, "but… I think Jabberwock's a good codename. It's like…"

She smiles. Despite the scar on her face, her smile is breathtakingly beautiful. The brightest of crescent moons.

"Jabberwock and Cheshire," she says. "It's like we match."

I take her into my arms and I kiss her.

The Jabberwock and Cheshire Cat. A monster and a fever dream.

Who woulda thought?

_And if you go chasing rabbits  
And you know you're going to fall  
Tell 'em a hookah smoking caterpillar  
Has given you the call_

* * *

Author's Notes:

I don't have a lot to say about this chapter in terms of plot or character- the plot is in a transitional stage, and the characters (with the possible exception of Mercury Lace, who gets a bit of an establishing character moment when she sticks up for Evelyn), are all in roughly the same place they were in in the last chapter, with little new information revealed to themselves, each other, or the reader.

So instead, I'm going to take this time to talk about film noir.

The rules of (classic, neo-noir takes more liberties) film noir are as follows: there need to be hats, venetian blinds and tight dresses. Everyone smokes and rooms are either dark or very, very over-lit. Narrators will give dryly worded inner monologues with great frequency. Woman are pure or they are "femme fatales"- independent, seductive, dangerous. Trust no one, take advantage of everyone, and be wary of dead end streets.

As I've mentioned before, film noir and western are two of the major influences on this story. I'm not playing either to the letter- I find the way women are portrayed in a lot of classic noir somewhat misogynistic, for example. (And for the record, I don't really consider myself a "feminist". My concern isn't with "portraying woman equally", but portraying _everyone_ equally, as people. I guess you could say I'm an "equalist". XD) But I like noir. I like that it takes a pessimistic, morally grey view of the world. In noir, there is no good and evil- anyone could end up committing horrific acts, under the right circumstances.

What we've got here is actually a pretty classic noir set-up. Several of the girls- Magdalena and Mercury Lace especially, and Jade to as lesser extent- play into the femme fatale archetype. And Roy is, in a lot of ways, a very classic noir hero. He's upper-class, a smoker, a crime-fighter who's a little screwed up, a little brooding. All of them are, of course, morally ambiguous. If there is one thing I believe in this world, it is that everyone is a shade of grey.

So that's a bit about the noir influence on this story. XD I'm still trying to work in hats. XD

Title and lyrics from "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane. Maybe I'll write an author's note about the influence of _Alice in Wonderland _on this story, at some point. XD

Also, to muddie: I promise promise promise you will get your one-shot ASAP, I just need to figure out how to do it without spoiling the end of this story. (Or, um, finish this story. Whichever come first. XD)


	8. Pieces of Me

Pieces of Me

_Jade_

He is beautiful.

It's four am, we're both up early this morning. Well, that's not entirely true- I'm up early, he's up very late. We've met in the middle. The sun is just beginning to rise, and it makes the city glow gold.

Roy has slipped onto the tiny porch to smoke- he never does it inside the apartment, out of consideration for me. I am perched on the metal railing watching him. I feel like a stalker, or maybe just a cat.

I have been unable to stop myself from staring at him the last few days. I think I am trying to commit him to memory- the exact, burnt-sienna shade of his hair, the lines of his body, the curve of his lips. The way he hold his cigarette between the first and second fingers of his left hand, even though he is right-handed, the five-o-clock shadow and the bags under his eyes. Everything about him is beautiful. I'm afraid to miss something, afraid that if I do he'll disappear. I think there's irony there- it's the Cheshire Cat, after all, who was prone to disappearing.

I think I've always been in love with him. I don't know why I didn't realize it before.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks me after a while, a slight smile on his face. He looks at me with warmth in his eyes. Normally, I feel like I could just disappear into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a false grin. When I'm around him, though, I feel… Solid. Nobody's ever made me feel like that before.

"Nothing," I say. "Just getting ready for the job." I hope down off the railing. I land on my feet. "Do you want some tea?"

"Sure," he replies, an exhale of smoke. In the dim light of the sunrise it is tinted almost pink. He grabs my hand and squeezes it as I step off the porch. His hands are strong.

He'll never love me back. Why would he? I'm not worth anyone's time- what guy wants damaged goods? He can do better than me.

I feel guilty. He's ruining his career, maybe his life, because of me. Because he wanted to save me.

Well I'm not worth saving.

* * *

Mercury Lace is already at the train station when we get there. She is standing with her back against the building's clay-colored wall, her hand on the brim of the white fedora sitting atop her blonde hair. The sun casts a long, thin shadow in front of her, and her hat darkens her face.

I have actually never seen Mercury Lace in costume before. She wears a sleeveless, high colored lace blouse, with what appears to be a cameo necklace clasped at the front, high heels, a pair of pinstriped tuxedo pants, fingerless leather gloves, and the fedora. All of it is white, which isn't a shock, though I am a bit surprised to see her in pants. She looks at us and nods but doesn't say anything.

"Emma here yet? "I wanted to run some drills." It's hot today, so he has decided not to wear the jacket I picked out for his costume- if you can even call it a costume. He starts to string his bow and the movement makes his bare arms flex. I get butterflies.

"Just me," Mercury Lace replies,

"I told her to be on time," Roy grumbles. He rolls his eyes. "Sidekicks. Can't work with 'em, can't work without 'em."  
"Wouldn't she be more like your henchman?" I ask. I mean, it's heroes who have sidekicks, isn't it?

He considers this. "I guess," he says. "Or maybe my girl Friday," he suggests, which makes me giggle.

I hear someone running, and the next thing I know, Evelyn has her hands over Mercury Lace's eyes. "Guess who?" she exclaims.

'Oy, Evelyn, will you stop doing that to me?" Mercury Lace huffs. Her use of the word "oy" strikes me as odd- is she Jewish? Or maybe just a New Yorker- I know I use Yiddish sometimes too. It hits me, for some reason, just how little I know about her.

Emma is trailing behind Evelyn, dragging her violin case. Her costume is another one of my thrown-together attempts- a too-large white button down, belted and worn as a dress, with thigh high stockings and my old Doc Martens. I tried, but she does not look any less ragged. "Sorry I'm late," she tells Roy. "I got lost. Evelyn had to show me where to go."

Roy shrugs. "It's alright," he says. "Got your gun?" She holds it out. I sit down on the ground, clutching my mask to chest, as they start going over something. I'm staring again. At least I know it.

I can see a black clad figure approaching us from the distance- Magdalena. She saunters towards the building, loose curls and a black cat suit."Ladies," she says sweetly. "And Roy."

"I like the costume," she tells him. She pokes his chest with her index finger- her nails are talon-length and painted with black tips. "What's the 'J' for?" I think she is flirting with him. It makes my stomach hurt, though I suppose it's not my place to be upset about seeing him with another girl.

"Jabberwock," he says. He glances at me as he pushes her hand away.

Oh.

"Hm. Well that's… fitting," Magdalena says. She claps her hands and we gather into a rough semi-circle. My kindergarten teacher used to do that. "Alright girls, time for places. Garnet Gasher?"

"Yeah?" Evelyn asks.  
"I'll need you to get us through the door," Magdalena explains.

Evelyn gives a brisk nod and pulls her sunglasses over her eyes, like getting into character. It should be no wonder, really, that Magdalena is treating this like a middle school play. We are all actors, in a way.

In her shiny red dress and boots, Evelyn looks more "super" than then the rest of us combined. Her hands start glowing red- the color, fittingly, of garnets- and soon they have burst into flames.

"You want me to burn the door down or just melt the lock?" she asks. The heat coming off her hands makes the already sweltering air ripple around her.

"Melt the lock," Magdalena decides. "Less conspicuous."

Evelyn nods again and brings a hand up to the small "Employees Only" door we are standing near. Her hands flare white and the metal knob melts like cheap plastic.

As Magdalena reaches inside the hole and flicks the door open, the flames on Evelyn's hands die out. Her skin is blistering but she doesn't seem to notice. Her hands are always a shade darker than the rest of her skin, anyway.

The inside of the building is dark and smells like dust. I feel the wall until I find a light switch and it comes on with an artificial hum.

"I trust you've already done your part, Mercury Lace?"Magdalena asks. Mercury Lace just bobs her head. "Good," Magdalena continues. "Then why don't you guard the door?"  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I ask. "I'm the combat specialist, Mercury Lace doesn't have any experience in that…"

Magdalena cuts me off with a sharp glare. "Did I ask for your opinion?"  
Her eyes are like daggers. They make me want to shrink into the floor. "No."  
"Didn't think so," she snaps. "Anyway, I've changed my mind. I think I want you with me after all, Mercury, dear. Evelyn'll be guard dog." She starts down the hallway. The clicking of her heels reminds me of cicadas.

Roy rests a hand on my shoulder. "She's a bitch," he tells me. "Don't let her get to you."

I smile at him. "Thanks. Now come on, we have work." I slip my mask on- I have a role to play too.

Evelyn stays behind as the rest of us follow Magdalena down a long hallway. "Do you mind telling us what we're here for?" Roy asks. It is, I think, the question on all of our minds.

"Let's just say someone took something of mine," she explains, not looking at him. "And now I want it back."

Roy turns to me and raises his eyebrows. I respond with a slight tilt of my head- I never do feel right talking with my mask on.

Magdalena stops us in front of what appears to be a cargo train. "It came in last night," she says. "We're looking for a silver briefcase." She hands Emma a photograph. "You'll have to search the entire train. And be careful, there might be guards." She nods at me and Roy. "You two keep watch. Mercury Lace, you know your job."

Roy looks shocked. "Wait, you're sending her in there without me?"  
Magdalena smiles. "I told you to prepare her for field jobs."

"Well, yeah, but she's not _that_ experienced," he argues. "I mean, I wasn't allowed to do solo jobs until I was sixteen."

"I'm in charge, aren't I?"

He narrows his eyes at her. "She's _my_ sidekick," he says, furiously. "If I say she's not ready, then she's not ready."

"And I'm _your_ boss," she snaps. "You have a contract, _Jabberwock_." He grits his teeth. She thrusts a finger at Emma. "Go."

This is insane. Why would she do this? I want to say something but I can't find the strength. The mask has stolen my voice. It always does.

Nervously, Emma steps towards the train. "How do I get in?"

In one swift motion, Roy reaches into his quiver, pulls out an arrow and shoots it at the train. It explodes, tearing a hole in the wall.

"You're a bitch," he tells Magdalena, as Emma slips inside.

About thirty minutes pass, and it feels like a lot longer. The four of us are completely silent. I feel like I might cry. At least no one would know.

Something starts beeping. Mercury Lace reaches into her pocket and takes out something that appears to be a timer.

"Damn," she says, quietly, barely a breath.

"What's wrong?" Roy asks.

Mercury Lace gives him calculating look, like she's not sure she should answer that. Magdalena makes the decision for her.

"Is there a problem?" she asks, smiling again.

Mercury Lace exhales heavily. "The train's rigged to explode," she explains. "It wasn't supposed to go off for another hour but I think it's malfunctioning." She holds the timer up. It is ticking down rapidly. "She's got maybe two minutes."

Roy turns sharply on his heel, facing Magdalena with an expression of pure rage. "Did you fucking plan this?" he snaps. "You fucking bitch, how could you let her-  
"I didn't know Mercury Lace would make a mistake, Roy," Magdalena says, her words even, calm. "And don't you worry," she adds, giving Mercury Lace a cold look. Mercury Lace reflects it right back. "She'll be punished accordingly."

I rip my mask off. I can't do it any longer. The tears come fast and they sting at my eyes. "I have to go in there," I cry.

Roy stops me, his hands warm against my arm. "I'll do it."

"No, I'm letting you get hurt too!" I exclaim.

"She's my responsibility Jade," he says. He puts a hand on my face, wiping the tears away, and I think for a second he might kiss me.

He takes it away. Who am I kidding?

"I'll be fine," Roy says. He says it like it's a fact, but he can't possibly know.

He steps onto the train, and I collapse onto the ground crying.

I feel like there's an iron weight in my chest. He can't get hurt. I can't lose him. I just can't.

I love him.

Mercury Lace pulls me off the floor. "Jade, you can't sit there," she says. "Not now." I'm not sure she's ever called me by my name before. I manage to nod and stumble across the room.

And the train blows.

The explosion is load and it makes my ears ring. Magdalena, Mercury Lace and I are far back enough that we are not hit by any shrapnel, though really, that's probably just good old fashioned goddamn luck.

I fall back on the floor. My head hits my knees and the impact feels as hard to me as the sound of wood and metal hitting the walls.

He's gone, isn't he?

My pulse pounds in my ears, like someone ripped my heart out and I'm listening to it beat. My tears fall on the rust-colored floor like drops of blood.

He can't be gone, he just can't be, he can't…

"Jade."

I look up.

It's him.

My whole body is trembling. I cover my mouth with my hand as my tears keep falling, faster and for a different reason now.

They're alive.

He's alive.

Roy steps out of the rubble, holding Emma against his side with one hand. They are both covered in soot and scrapes but they seem otherwise unharmed. It's like a miracle. Like a fairy tale.

In his other hand is the briefcase. He tosses it at Magdalena, a triumphant grin on his face, and then walks over to me and helps me stand.

"Jade, baby, don't cry, I'm-"

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" I interrupt. "Don't you dare…"

Instead of finishing, I place a hand on the back of his head and kiss him, full on the lips and with as much passion as I can.

I have to tell him. He might reject me and hate me, but I have to let him know how much he means to me.

"I love you," I whisper.

At first he looks shocked. Tears are streaming down my face. God, I shouldn't have said that. What am I thinking, that he…He would never…

He grins.

"Took you long enough," he says. He lifts me off the floor, hooks my legs around his waist, and pulls my face back to his, kissing me with more passion than I have ever known it was possible to feel.

"I love you too."

* * *

I start to cry again.

Roy sits up. It is past midnight, and the stars are shimmering outside my bedroom window. His eyes, since this morning, have seemed to sparkle just as much. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"I just…" I sob. "I just can't believe this is real. I've never even had a real boyfriend before and… And why would you ever love me?"

I am shivering, weak from crying. He wraps a blanket around me and holds me against his chest. I can hear his heart beating, in rhythm with mine. "Because," he says. "You are the kindest, most beautiful, amazing person I have ever met. I've loved you since I've met you, Jade. Maybe even before. God that doesn't even make sense, does it?"

I kiss him, my face wet with tears. "Yes it does," I say. "And that's how I feel about you."

He smile.. "I love you," he says. I have lost track of how many times we have said those words today.

"I love you, too," I whisper. He kisses me, sweetly, as gently as the stars shine.

_Fall... With you, I fall so fast  
I can hardly catch my breath, I hope it lasts_

_Oh, it seems like I can finally rest my head on something real  
I like the way that feels  
Oh, it's as if you've know me better than I ever knew myself  
I love how you can tell  
All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me  
All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me..._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Aww, their together now, how cute.

Things are going to start going to hell for them now. Anyone who knows me knows I rarely write "cute" without a very steep price.

Okay, so cryptic-ness aside, I figured eight chapters of romantic tension was long enough. XD I tend to like to write when the couple is actually together in addition to just focusing on the build-up, I guess. And really, it's not like these two haven't been functioning as a couple for a while now. XD I didn't separate the story into parts or anything, but if I did, this would be the end of "part one". Because after this chapter, the game is going to start changing a bit.

As for the heist, well, action's not really my strong point. I tried, I guess. I don't think there will be any other really actiony scenes in this, which is good. XD And to be cryptic again… That briefcase will be very important. XD I'm sure you all figured that out already.

Title and lyrics from "Pieces of Me" by Ashlee Simpson. I keep using all my really poppy guilty pleasure songs for Jade's chapters, for some reason. XD


	9. Tune Up Number 1

Tune Up #1

_Heather_

Poison is the quietest, most unsuspecting way to hurt someone. Buttercups seem like such pretty little flowers, that is until they start killing your horses.

I chose the name "Mercury Lace" because I like to associate myself with poison. After all, what happens when you lace something with mercury?

Evelyn doesn't know my real name.

I suppose I'll tell her, sooner or later. She's a cute girl. I'm not usually into girls but I guess she wore me down with that smile of her's. Well, that, or killing people with someone makes you warm up to them. One or the other.

Evelyn doesn't know about the rest of my jobs either.

It's the middle of the night and I have a task to perform. Rigging the train to explode was the easy part. Now comes the real challenge.

The stars wink at me, mockingly, as I approach the train station and climb over the police tape. The old-fashioned trains here are mostly tourist attractions. If you want to get anywhere, you have to take one out to Lamy first, and from there you're on the Amtrak back to real world. It is so damn quiet here that I almost miss Brooklyn.

I find a door and, for the second time in two nights, use a bobby pin from my hair to pick the lock. Once I'm inside it doesn't take me long to find the track I'm looking for- why would it? It is, after all, the only track covered in pieces of an exploded train.

The briefcase doesn't take me long to find. I find myself holding my breath as I turn the combination lock and open it.

Good. He got the right one.

Now all I have to do is make sure it stays that way.

I don't any other specific orders from this point on. I'll just have to lay low and keep my head down. And wait- though for what, I'm not sure. Another order, maybe, or just a better offer. For a girl raised on Tiffany's and caviar, it turns out I'm a pretty cheap date.

I decide to stop at a twenty-four hour diner for a cup of coffee. It is not air conditioned, and the room swelters with the summer air- I order my coffee hot anyway. I sit at the counter and watch the sun come up, the light glinting off of the silver briefcase. There are very few people outside, just weeds and dust and snakes.

When rattlesnakes hibernate in the winter, they often share their hiding place with other animals- other snakes and reptiles, mostly, but also rodents. This does not stop them from hunting those same rodents just as soon as winter is up.

There are rattlesnakes all over this damn city, and I'm one of them.

_From here on in, I shoot without a script_

* * *

Author's Notes:

So Mercury Lace's real name is Heather. I am glad you guys know this now, because I kept almost forgetting to refer to her as Mercury Lace in my notes. XD

The obvious thing to do here would be to talk about Heather, like a character analysis, but I can't really do that yet, not without giving things way. So instead I'll just say that there will be three of these little "interludes". (which anyone familiar with _Rent_ probably already figured out. XD), one for Heather, one for Evelyn, and one for Emma (or maybe Magdalena, but probably Emma). Between the six members of this story's main cast, there is a lot going on and a lot of sides being played. This is a quick view from another side.

The title and lyrics are from "Tune-Up #1", from _Rent_. In _Rent_, Santa Fe becomes something of a symbolic utopia, and, well, what can I say? I just love me some dramatic irony.


	10. I Want It All

I Want It All

_Roy_

She loves me.

God, it just seems so fucking unreal.

I get back from a supply run and find Jade is curled up on the couch with a book. Her hair cascades down her shoulders and onto the floor, glossy like black silk. She is so beautiful, in every way. I cannot believe she would ever go for a guy like me.

But she did.

She loves me.

I am carrying several bags full of weaponry and I let them hit the floor with a thud. I sit down next to her and pull her into my lap. "Hey, gorgeous."

Her face lights up. "You're back!" she says, grinning. She puts her book down, rests her hand on the side of her face and kisses me. Her fingers are soft and delicate and she tastes like the sweetest of green teas.

She's my girlfriend. She's actually my girlfriend.

I don't think I've ever been happier in my life.

"So, I've got a couple of hours before I have to meet Emma," I tell her. "What do you say we have our first official date?" We would have gone yesterday, but Magdalena gave us all a fuckload of stuff to do- busy work, I think- and we didn't get back until really late.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Anything you want, on me," I tell her. She blushes, the color of a kitten's tongue. She always seems to remind me of a cat. I guess it could just be because of her codename, but it's her mannerisms too- the way she moves on the balls on her feet and she sometimes just shivers when you touch her.

"You don't have to keep paying for everything," she says softly. I kiss her again, just because I can.

"I've got two separate inheritances and a trust fund," I remind her. "I can afford it way more than you can."

She smiles. "How about just a movie?"

I smile back. "Sounds great."

"You pick," she tells me. "I'm gonna go change."

I give her a playful pat on the ass as she stands up. "You don't need to. You're sexy in anything."

She giggles. "Yeah, but it's my first real date _ever_. I have to look _perfect_," she says, scampering to her room.

"You already do," I call out, and I hear her laughing as the door shuts.

I pick the newspaper off the coffee table and flip to the movie listings. She is a chick flick sort of girl, and normally I would not sit through one. For her, though, I will.

For her, I'd do anything.

It's weird. She told me a couple nights ago just how much she hates being a villain. It's exactly what I was hoping she'd say when I came here. But as much as I wanted to, I couldn't ask her to leave with me. Because of the contract, I guess, but also because, well…

I love her.

And I guess all I really want to is make her happy, keep her safe. And if I have to that here for now, then I'll do it here.

I'm a villain now, but I'm doing it for her. I know that doesn't make it okay, but at the very least it makes it bearable.

I cast the newspaper aside and pick up Jade's book. _Go Ask Alice_. I read that my sophomore year- after I got out of rehab the second time I went on a binge of drug related media. I wanted to understand my condition, and I also just liked not feeling so alone.

This book was originally marketed as a memoir but these days most people think it's a hoax. I wonder if she knows that. If she's interested in drug literature I should really get her a copy of _The Basketball Diaries_. Or maybe _Trainspotting_, but the dead baby part might freak her out.

Still, I leaf through the pages and I can't help but smile. She is probably reading this for me. Because she, too, wants to understand my condition.

God, she's wonderful.

* * *

She picks out a very sexy little pink dress and we end up going to some romance movie, but neither of us even watch it. We just make out the whole time instead. I come out of the theater feeling drunk off of chocolate and kisses.

I swing an arm around Jade's waist. "So what do you want to do now?"  
"Um, let's just go for a walk," she decides, laying a hand on my chest. "Pretend like we're normal teenagers."

Well, normal teenagers are entitled to public displays of affection. I lift her off the ground and twirl her around as I kiss her.

"I love you," I whisper, my lips brushing up against her ear. It feels so damn good to say it.

She gives me that pretty smile of hers. "I love you too," she says. She links her arm through mine and we start to walk down the sidewalk.

I've really come to like Santa Fe. The Mexican-style architecture, red stone walls and open windows. The bright blue sky and the smell of the desert. It feels like home here, way more than Pasadena or Steel City ever did.

"So was it, like, love at first sight?" Jade asks, shyly. "I mean, was it when we fought for that Brotherhood thing or what?"

"It was absolutely love at first sight," I tell her. "Took me a while to realize it, but… But I think my whole life changed the moment I met you." Fuck, that sounded cheesy. I roll my eyes and chuckle, "Geez, when did I turn into fucking Kid Flash?"

She giggles. "Well, you're _way_ hotter than Kid Flash."

"I dunno," I say, "I think he's pretty cute. He's a _dish_ with his shirt off. Doesn't swing that way, though"

She stares at me in shock for a second, then bursts into laughter. "Omigod, did you _hit on him_?"  
"We were doing a mission together," I explain. "He's not my usual type but I hadn't had any in months and I figured 'what's the harm'?" I shrug. "The harm turned out to be to my dignity, but what can you do?"

She's still laughing. "Okay, so what _is_ your type?"

"You," I say, in complete honesty.

Jade blushes and glances at the ground. "That's…" She makes a soft sound as a smile slowly forms on her face. "Thank you."

I place a hand on her chin and tilt her face towards mine. "It's true."

She kisses me, then says, "I meant your guy type."

I laugh. "Oh, you're not gonna let this go, huh?"

"But I'm _curious_," she says, bouncing on the balls of her feet, like an eager little kid. She's so cute. But I clearly bought her too much sugar.

"Curiosity killed the cat, babe," I tell her. She giggles and makes little cat claws with her hands.

"So you're bi, right?" she asks.

I shrug. "I guess. I mean, I woudn't ever really want to date a guy, but good sex is good sex, you know?"

"I guess so."She giggles. "Well, maybe not. I'm so straight, if I were a guy, I'd be gay."

"Well, that's not a problem for me," I say, grinning. "You know who is gay?"

"Who?"

"Jericho."

Her mouth falls open. "Really?"

I nod. "We totally made out once."

She has another fit of giggles. "So your guy type is blond and scrawny?"

"Nah, I guess I usually like 'em kind of macho. I was just desperate that time too," I reply. I run my fingers through her hair. "It was right when Titans North was forming, and he and a couple others were crashing at our tower for a night on their way there. It was… Well, it pretty soon after the BOE thing, and… I was just doin' whatever I could to get my mind off you," I admit. "'Cause I was already in love with you. And I was just so furious at myself for not trying to help you out of…" Out of where? "For not doing anything for you."

Jade's face softens. She looks at me, her pretty green eyes filling with tears. I wipe them away with my thumb.

"Oh, Jade, did-" She cuts me off by kissing me on the lips, slipping her tongue between my teeth and her fingers under my shirt.

I move my mouth from hers and onto her neck. "Just can't keep your hands off me, huh?" I ask, flicking my tongue against her skin.

She lets out a soft moan, like a cat purring "First boyfriend, remember?" She brings my face back to hers, looking me in the eye. "And the most amazing one ever."

* * *

"So tell me where you messed up."

Emma makes a face at me. She and I are sitting at the same "saloon" we came to during our first training session- we've come here a couple times since- splitting a plate of fries as I grill her about yesterday's mission. I've never really been a mentor to anyone before. I'm not sure if I'm trying to sound like Ollie or Lauren.

"How about the fact that I put up with Magdalena's shit?"  
I'm swallowing as she says that and I nearly spit my soda out. I'm…Kind of proud of her for saying it. I think that's wrong.

"Well, yeah, that," I say. "But we don't have a choice about that. And this is supposed to be a learning experience so just… Humor me here, okay? Where did _you_ mess up?"

She rolls her eyes at me, then says, "Well, I probably should have been able to get on the train myself."

I shake my head. "Nah, that one was my fault," I say. "I haven't gone over explosives with you yet. What else?"

She brushes her bangs out of her eyes as she thinks. "Um, I think my safety was on."

"Yeah, try not to do that."

"And when the train blew I should have…"

"No," I interrupt, sharply. "That wasn't your fault at all." If anyone is to blame for _that_, it is Magdalena. Sooner or later I will give that girl a damn piece of my mind.

"Well, then what are you trying to get at?" she asks. "'Cause you obviously know what I did wrong, or you wouldn't be asking."

That makes me smile. Kid sure is growing a spine. "The briefcase," I say. "You were looking for half an hour. I bet you coulda done it in half that."

Her eyes are wide. "How?"

"You tell me."

She huffs. "You're really taking this sidekick thing seriously," she grumbles.

"That's 'cause you're good."

Her eyes drift towards the piano in the corner of the room. "Really?"

I light a cigarette and then lean my chin on my hand as I start to smoke it. I get the feeling Emma's been around smokers before, because she never seems bothered by it. She wasn't even coughing after the train blew yesterday.

"You play piano, too?" I ask.

Emma turns back to the table and stares at her glass. "Um, yeah, I guess," she murmurs. "I mean, it's been a while."

The piano is the same rough, nutty brown as Emma's hair, and dusty like it hasn't been touched in years. There's even a fucking cobweb on the pedals. "You wanna play me something?"

Her eyes go wide. "You'd really want to listen?"  
I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant about it. Truth is I'm really curious. "Sure."

Em stands up, wringing her hands together as she walks over to the piano. She opens the cover, wipes the dust off the keys with her sleeve, and starts to play.

The tune is pretty, quiet, but with a somberness to it. It reminds me of mist. I don't know shit about music, so I guess I have no way of telling if she's good. I don't even know what song she's playing, though it sounds vaguely familiar. But she sounds pretty fucking good to me. And more than that is the _way_ she plays. She doesn't have any sheet music so she's got her eyes closed, letting herself work out of muscle memory. Her fingers move with a swiftness and precision she is still learning when it comes to guns.

There's confidence there. I've never seen it in her before.

The waitress, whose name I have learned is Haylee, wanders over to our table. "Been a while since we've had anyone play that thing," she tells me. "She's good, too."

"Yeah," I reply. Haylee leans on the table, holding a dishrag against her hip as she watches Emma play.

"You know, I bet if I talk to my manager I could get her a gig," she says. "I'm sure he'd love to have live music."  
I stub my cigarette out in glass tray. The ashes remind me of gunpowder. "I'll ask her."

Haylee tilts her head and looks from Emma to me. She is chewing gum, and she sticks her tongue out as she pops a bubble. "You two come in here a lot," she comments. "She like your sister or something?"

"Or something."

Emma finishes playing, and looks her shoulder. "What'd ya think?" I shoot her a thumbs up, and some of the people scattered around the room applaud, which makes her blush.

I wave her back to the table. "Em, what song was that?"

"It's the theme from _Swan Lake_," she says, looking at me like I'm an idiot. "How do you not know that?"

"I look like a guy who's into ballet?" I ask.

"No."

"Right. So when did you last play that?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Um, I guess a couple years ago?"

"And how'd you still know it, just now?"

She pauses, then "'Cause I wasn't thinking about it."

I nod. "And what'd you do wrong yesterday?"

She smirks. She knows my game. "I thought too much."

* * *

Jade is reading again when I get home. I walk up to her and kiss her, hard.

She smiles. "Are you planning to greet me this way every time you see me?"  
"Something like that," I murmur, kissing her again. I climb on top of her and find the zipper of her dress, my lips not leaving hers as I start to pull it down.

She stops my hand. "Roy, I can't, I've got to go to a client's," she says.

"Oh," I say. "Okay." I clamber off of her, feeling clumsy as I do. "Later, then. I mean if you're up for it." The sun is starting to go down, and the windows streak the room with red.

Jade rests a hand on my shoulder. "Roy, I… Believe me, I'd much rather sleep with you."

I scoff. "What, do you think I'm jealous or something?" I am, in fact, entirely jealous.

She gives me a soft smile. "Roy."

I roll my eyes. "Fine, okay? I'm jealous. But I'm your _boyfriend_ now. It's hard having to share you."

She leans her head on my shoulder and brings my hand to her lips, kissing me light as feather. "Roy, none of them mean anything to me. If it helps."  
I shrug. It doesn't. Not really. But it's her job. I can't do anything about that.

She glances at the clock. "I have to go," she say, the saddest look in her eyes. I wish I could just make it go away.

She stands. As she walks to the other room, the blinds on the window leave red stripes across her body, like someone who's just been whipped. Tortured. The bedroom door swing shut behind her, and I sigh and lean my head in my hands.

All this work, and I still can't protect her.

My cell phone buzzes. I check the ID- I'm careful about that these days. It's Magdalena.

"What do you want?" I grumble. I'm not in the mood to play nice with her.

"I've got a job for you," she says. I can practically hear that fake smile of hers. She smiles with her teeth.

* * *

The job is a simple one.

Magdalena directs me to a run-down looking antique store in one of the oldest parts of town. There is, she tells me, a set of keys for sale. My job is to steal them.

I hold a cigarette between by teeth as I step inside, my old brown work boots kicking dirt up off the wooden floor. The store is dark, lit only by a gas lamp sitting atop a claw foot table, and would reek of smoke even without me here.

There is an old man behind the counter, hunched over a yellowing book with a pair of glasses on a chain. He doesn't even look up at me as I enter.

"Can I help you?"

I don't answer. Instead I just take an arrow- smokescreen- out of my sling and shoot it at nothing.

I can hear him coughing as the room clouds up. I make my way to the glass display cabinet, and with another arrow, I break it open.

There is no alarm, no sprinkler system. Just the sound of an old man choking on smoke as I leave his dark little shop and step into the equally dark night, holding a set of three brass keys adorned with little brass horse heads in my hand.

The first time I did heroin, I remember feeling so sick to my stomach with guilt that I nearly threw up as I stuck the needle in my arm. It may not have taken very long for me to stop caring, but that first time, I knew what I was about to do was wrong.

As I walk down the street, swinging the keys with each step, I feel nothing of the sort.

_I hold my money with my left, got the world in my right pocket,_

_smoke a stoke with my right in between counting my profits._

_Poker faces, I soak up the taste_

_a display if women on my sofa, doin' the type of things I love so much._

_But so what? I'm skeezy, it's not easy bein' Joe Smut._

_With more bucks than you can count, more than what's in your clutch_

_I could fund a small war and start a recession,_

_a big dog, a boss hog,_

_what I want is the question._

_I want it all._

* * *

Author's notes: In a weird way, this chapter really cracks me up, because basically, in the span of two scenes, Roy goes from being an adorable doting boyfriend to rampaging around like he thinks he's Javiar Bardem in _No Country for Old Men_. XD

So on that note, let's talk about westerns. I'll admit that I'm not as well-versed in westerns as I am in noir. I've watched a few classic ones in film class and I wasn't really nuts about any of them, but I did really like the _True Grit_ remake. And also _Firefly_, which sort of counts. XD I think the biggest idea I'm taking from Westerns is the theory that, when you are in an uncivilized place, a "no-man's land" if you will, you are often presented with a paradox: to protect civilization, you need to pick up a gun. Once you pick up a gun, though, you are no longer civilized. So how to you fight back without destroying your humanity?

This is the question Roy is asking himself right about now. Or should be, anyway. Roy does have a tendency to act first, realize the consequences later.

The joke about Roy making out with Joey once is in here because I kept telling people I wanted to make a joke about, so darn it I decided to make that joke. XD And personally, I can't agree with Jade on this one- Wally is _way_ hotter than Roy. Sorry Roy. XD

I had a really hard time deciding what Emma should play in the saloon scene. Not sure why I decided on "Swan Lake", it just sounded like Emma to me, I guess. And of course, Roy had to throw in a reference to the book/movie this story was named after when he was talking about drug literature. Oh and the line "I'm so straight, if I were a guy, I'd be gay." is something my friend actually said once. (If you're reading this, sorry. The way you said it was just so great. XD)

Title and lyrics from "I Want it All" (technically, "I Want It All/We Will Rock You Mash-Up", but that didn't sound as good) by Queen ft. Armegeddon. Or something like that- it's from the Sucker Punch soundtrack and from what I can tell is a really weird remix of this one Queen song that actually has totally different lyrics?


	11. Come Away With Me

Come Away With Me

_Jade_

When I was seven, one of the girls in the brothel taught me how to read. Her name was Wendy, and she was twenty and kind of like a big sister to me. She had a battered book of fairy tales- the Disney versions- and she used to read to me every night, before I went to sleep and before she went out for her night's work. Wendy had blonde pigtails and a childish face. She wasn't the brightest of girls. But she was soft and patient, and she'd read the words in those Disney fairy tales over and over until I could read them back to her.

Since then I have been a voracious reader. It started as an escape, a way to pretend to be somewhere, someone else, and quickly grew into a passion. Although I've never been to school beyond second grade, I have always been able to read on level, if only because I pushed myself so hard to do so.

I'll read anything, really, but I often find that I favor the classics- as a kid it was_ Peter Pan_, _A Little Princess_, and, of course,_ Alice in Wonderland_. When I got older I moved onto things like Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Edith Wharton. The Victorian and Edwardian eras, especially, are a fascination of mine.

It is about ten in the morning, and I am sitting in the kitchenette with a copy of _Go Ask Alice_. It's probably silly, but after Roy told me the details of his heroin use, I went to the nearest bookstore and asked for a novel about drug addiction. I just love him so much. I'll do whatever I can to understand what he went through, and reading is something that I can do.

For some reason, I find myself thinking about Wendy this morning. When I was ten, she just disappeared one day. I always assumed she'd taken another job, or run away, maybe. Or I suppose she could have died, but I try not to think about that.

I don't think that Wendy was her real name- prostitution, in that way, is not unlike the supers business. In fact, I think she took that name from the _Peter Pan_ character, which I suppose is why I am thinking of her. Not counting myself, Roy is now the second person I have known who has derived a name from my own personal obsession.

The bedroom door swings open and Roy walks out, in just his sweatpants. Gosh, is he ever hot. His abs are fantastic. He yawns, which makes me giggle- ten in the morning is early for him. He grins when he sees me, sits down into the chair next to me and kisses me. He's gentle about it, and it makes me want to melt in his arms. "Morning, beautiful."

I smile. "You're up early."

"Yeah," he says, with a shrug. "Didn't sleep well. Adrenaline, I guess."

"From those midnight jobs?" I ask. Magdalena has been sending him out late at night for the past few days. He's not allowed to talk about what he's doing on then- she called me up just to make that one very clear.

"I guess," he says, stretching his arms as he yawns again. His arms are very scarred, something that strikes me sometimes. That's alright, though, since mine are too. He gestures at my book, "So, I noticed you were reading about drugs."

I feel myself blush. "I was interested," I say. "Because… Well, you know."

He nods, reaching out and running his fingers through my hair. It sends shivers down my spine. "Thank you," he says.

I lean in to kiss his, and am stopped when the alarm on my cell phone goes off. I sigh and shut my eyes. "I have to go." He seemed so upset about this the other day. I feel like I could cry. I hate the thought of hurting him. "Roy, I… I'm sorry. I really do hate doing this."

Roy wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. "S'okay," he murmurs. "I'm sorry too. It's just your job."

"But, you were right," I say. "You're my _boyfriend_ and… And I want that to mean something, and…"

"It does," he says firmly. "It means I love you."

After that I can't not cry anymore. I bury my face in his bare shoulder and sob.

"I'm really sorry," I say again. It's the only thing I can think to say.

He rubs the back of my neck with his thumb. "Look, Jade, I… I'm jealous, yeah. I'm not gonna deny that. But mostly I just hate seeing you this miserable."

My phone starts ringing. Roy kisses me, then wipes the tears off my face. "Just… Be safe, okay?"

I nod, grab my purse and head for the door. As I lay my hand I the knob, I turn over my shoulder to look at him. He sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window, a serious expression on his face.

"I love you," I say. And he smiles.

I nearly start crying again as I walk down the stairs and onto the street. I've always hated whoring myself out like this, I really have. It's scary and degrading and sometimes it just hurts. It's dangerous work. I know that.

But this is the first time anyone _else_ has cared.

God, I just love him so much.

* * *

So apparently I'm turning into something of a kleptomaniac.

I actually feel bad about stealing from this one. He's a decent guy, never swears at me or anything.

But it wasn't even good with him.

He's not Roy.

The tea in my purse is Harney & Son's brand, Paris, leaves packed tightly into a white tin box. The Paris blend is a personal favorite of mine, but that's not why I took it. I have plenty at home, and even if I didn't, I like to think I still have enough dignity to not have to steal for my tea.

No, the reason I took it is this: Harney & Sons packages their tea leaves in black tins. The white ones are for tea bags.

Why someone would repackage tea _leaves_ into a box meant to sell tea _bags_ is beyond me. I suppose it's not quite as odd as the blush-in-tupperware-containers I found at my other client's. But there's still something distinctly strange about this.

I sit down on the curb and open the tin. It is sweet, floral, with notes of bergamot and blueberries. I have been to Paris, technically, but only for work. I have never really seen the sights, experienced the life there. I'd like to, someday. I wonder if it looks the way it does in my books, smells like the tea in front of me.

If I am a Parisian at heart, then I suppose that makes me a romantic. Is it ironic, then, that I have never been in love before? Or is it fitting, because romantics do not settle for anything less than their soulmate?

Since Roy and I have become official, it's like my senses are heightened. The sun is brighter, the tea smells sweeter. Each heartbeat feels like a flutter, a pulse, instead if just another motion I have to go through do to survive.

He makes me so happy.

I slide the tea back into my purse and slip into the dingy bathroom of a nearby restaurant. It's dirty and the light is dim, but it's good enough to re-do my make-up. I have to be at another client's- the one I stole the Tupperware from- in half an hour. My alias for this one, Amandine, sounds French, so I tend to play up the romance- pink lips, long eyelashes, a braid in my hair. Normally getting to dress up like, create another identity, is one of the only things about my job I like.

Today, I just feel like I'm painting on another mask.

* * *

"You're late."

In my head, I call him The Businessman. It's not like I haven't had other white-collar clients before, but for some reason I just can't seem to think of him as anything else. He is every negative stereotype of a high-power businessman I can think of: intelligent, cold, cheating on his wife.

"I'm sorry," I say, smiling as best I can manage. I try to shut the door to his office quietly but it slams shut.

"Sorry?" he snaps. The veins are popping out of his forehead. He's not an attractive man. "You're _sorry_?"

"I got held up at work," I say. It comes out sounding like a squeak. I think I told him I'm a dancer, but I might have said waitress. I too nervous to remember.

He laughs, like a hyena. "_Work_? You got held up on a pole at a bar?" I guess I said dancer then.

"I'm sorry," I say again, quietly this time.

The Businessman thrusts a hand against the wall, trapping me between him and the door. "Well, I'm sorry isn't going to fucking cut it this time, Amandine. Last time you were fucking 'sorry' my wife nearly found out."

"I'm sure she won't come by your office in the middle of the afternoon," I whisper. I try to reach for the doorknob behind me, but he sees. He grabs my wrist, so rough it feels like rope-burn, and then slaps me hard across the face and pushes me into his desk. The corner tears a hole in my dress and cuts into my leg

"You're already late, bitch," he says, through his teeth. "Don't waste anymore of my time. Why don't you just take your dress off and lie down?"

I bring a hand to me cheek, fingering the place where it stings. I suddenly think of Roy- the way his eyes light up whenever he looks at me, the softness of his fingers brushing against my face and the warmth of his kisses.

I don't want to do this anymore.

"I'm leaving," I say, starting for the door again.

The Businessman looks at me, his face red, eyes bloodshot. "_Leaving_?" he roars. "I fucking pay you to be here and you think you can just fucking _leave_?"  
He forces his lips against mine, biting down until I taste blood. I roundhouse kick him in the jaw as hard as I can- I bet he didn't know I can do that. He screams something at me as I run out the door, blood dripping from my lip and thigh and onto the floor. Hansel and Gretel's trail of breadcrumbs, but I will not be following it back.

* * *

Roy isn't home when I get there, which leaves me with nothing to do but cry.

I can't do this anymore. I don't know how I've done this for so long. I can't. I just can't.

I collapse onto the couch, my entire body shivering. I can't even control my own muscles. Sometimes when I'm doing it with guys I don't know I even fucking enjoy it. My heart doesn't matter when my nervous system doesn't want it to.

It's like it's not even my body. It's Cheshire's. I just borrow it sometimes.

Strands of my hair are sticking to my face, glued by tears and blood. My hair is so heavy, thudding on the floor with my every movement. I don't know why I keep it this long. It's just dead cells. It's all just dead cells.

Fine. At least there's one thing I can control.

I throw open every drawer and cabinet in the kitchen but I can't find a pair of scissors. I grab a knife instead- the big sharp kind meant for cooking. It'll do. My hands shake as start I slice through my hair.

My hair falls into a thick pile on the floor, crumpled and heavy, like a dead cat on the side of the road. In a funny way I feel like I've just lost a limb. I don't even have a mirror, I'm probably ruining it. But I just keep hacking away. I can't seem to stop. So much for control.

Well, it's my hair. It's my hair and I'll cut it off if I goddamn want to.

I imagine, briefly, what would happen if the knife slipped. I know it should scare me, but it doesn't. My heart is already throbbing in my chest, hard enough I think it might break my ribs. It hurts more than any knife ever could.

I hear the door open. "Jade, are you home?" He must hear me crying, because he races into the kitchen. "Jade? What's…?"

Roy stops mid-sentence as he sees the knife in my hand and the black hairs scattered across the floor and the blood still dripping from my lip. His eyes go dark.

"Which one of them do I need to kill?"

I can't answer. I just fall to the floor in tears.

"Oh, Jade…" Roy whispers. He kneels down and, carefully, pries the knife from my trembling fingers and sets it on the counter before wrapping me tightly in his arms.

"I can't do this anymore," I sob. "I want out. I can't do this, I can't, I can't…" The words come out choppy, barely discernable.

Roy runs his fingers through what's left of my hair and then just stays there, embracing me until the shaking stops.

* * *

My hair is not that bad, all things considered. It's a little past my shoulders, a good four feet shorter than it used to be, and the ends are uneven. But it could be worse.

My whole life, I guess, could be worse.

Roy wraps a blanket around my shoulders and slides a cup of tea into my hands. Harney & Sons, Paris Blend. It's like he knew.

He sits down next to me. "So do you want to talk about it?"

"I just don't want to do it anymore," I say. I don't know how else to put it. "I just don't…" I start crying again, tear drops rippling inside my teacup. Roy wraps his arms around my waist.

"Shh, shh…" he soothes. "Don't want to do what? What happened"

"I, um, I tried to walk out on my client," I explain. "The one who… the one you don't like. He was, was yelling at me and trying to force himself on me and… And I just realized that, that I…"

I don't have words for this. So I kiss him, leaving my forehead against his after I pull away.

"That I didn't want anyone but you to touch me like this ever again."

Roy's entire face just softens. "God, I… I don't know what to say, I… Thank you."

I lean my head against his chest. "I didn't do anything."

He looks at me for what feels like a very long time, and there is color in his eyes. "Yeah, you did."

* * *

Magdalena's hotel room has a Hispanic look to it. The walls are stone and unfinished wood, and a woven blanket, black with red and white diamonds, has been folded neatly across the brown leather couches. There is a wooden cross on the wall, and while I know she didn't put it there, I find it hard to associate her with any place that claims any sort of moral core.

It's not that there aren't villains with morals. But they aren't the ones who hire from the

Sirens.

Magdalena hands me a brown clay mug filled with tea- black, but I'm not sure exactly what kind. She's already put in milk and sugar. For some reason, she has memorized my drink order. It doesn't taste as good as the tea Roy made me earlier.

"So what did you want to talk about, Jade?" she asks, smiling. I wonder if this is sugar in my drink or just artificial sweetner.

I clear my throat. "I, uh…" The Siren policy about what I'm about to do is complicated. In between jobs, it wouldn't be difficult, but during a job I need my boss's express permission to make this sort of… Resume change. "I'd like your permission to retire from my position as a seductress."

Magdalena takes a sip of her own tea, and raises an eyebrow at me over her cup. "Retire?"  
"Just as a seductress," I say quickly. "I'd like to continue a martial-arts and close-combat expert, if that's..."

Magdalena slams her mug onto the table. The tea splashes onto the table, the drops looking to me like misshapen hearts.

"Don't think I don't know what this is about," she snaps. I feel myself recoil- no matter how many times she does it, the shifts in her demeanor never scare me any less. "Are you _in love_ with him? Is he your _soulmate_? Is that it?"

"I…" I have lost all of my confidence, in seconds. "I'm…"

"Are you really the kind of girl who's going to choose a guy over her career?" she sneers. "Honestly, Jade, I thought better of you than that."

"_Career_?" I exclaim. I seem to have snapped back. "Is that what you think this is? Do you think I like this? Do you think I ever _wanted_ any of this?"  
"I think you've done it your whole life for a reason."

I refuse to lower myself to that comment. I set my mug on the table and rise from the couch. "I quit."

She doesn't say anything at first, but as I open the door, she calls out to me.

"Do you really think it's going to last?"  
I think about slamming the door shut, but that would be lowering myself too. Instead I turn to look at her.

"Yes," I say. "Yes, I do."

And I leave.

* * *

Roy is waiting on the couch when I get home. He's holding his cigarette carton in his hands, turning it back and forth, a nervous tick.

"How'd it go?"

"I quit," I say.

His jaw drops. "You quit?"

I sit down next to him and smile. "I quit," I repeat.

He stares at me, mouth open, and then he gets it. He smiles back. "You quit."

He kisses me, passionately, but gentle against the cut on my lip. I tug his shirt over his head and he starts at the zipper of my dress. His hands are warm as they caress my skin. I am shivering again, but for a different reason now.

He, I realize, makes me feel safe. When I am in his arms like this, I feel like, for the first time in my life, everything is going to be okay.

* * *

I wake up in the middle of the night, and Roy is not in bed next to me. I slip into my robe and wander barefoot to the balcony.

He is leaning on the railing, hunched over with a cigarette in his hand, staring at the stars. It's a clear night, and they blink like lightning bugs. I stand behind him, wrap my arms around his chest and rest my chin on his shoulder. "Couldn't sleep?"

He exhales smoke, and I wonder for a second if the Jabberwock breathed fire. "You did something for me today," he says. "Now it's my turn."

He holds up his cigarette carton. It's empty.

"This is my last one," he says. "I'm gonna quit."

Is mile. "For me?"

He turns to look at me, his eyes brighter than the stars. "For you."

And he kisses me again. His kisses are the sweetest I have ever had.

_And I want to wake up with the rain  
Falling on a tin roof  
While I'm safe there in your arms  
So all I ask is for you  
To come away with me in the night  
Come away with me_

* * *

Author's Notes

Um, yeah, not a lot happened in this chapter. Major plot points are going to start coming pretty rapid fire in the next few chapters, but Roy really needed to narrate the next one (Jade just isn't involved enough in the more sinister plot proceedings yet, it just wouldn't have made sense. She's probably more in the dark about what's going on than any other character right now) so I had to use some more minor plot points to buy time. Sorry this chapter's not that great.

I think I really just had Jade cut her hair because it was so long and it must have been really heavy and it was making me feel bad for her. XD But it says something about her state of mind right now too: she's a bit distraught and probably a bit too dependent on Roy for emotional security. She's also really starting to hate being a villain, and trying to find a way out is taking a toll on her. But the thing about villainy is that it's a lot harder to get in then out. And her haircut is also, as haircuts often are, symbolic of change: she's trying to pull her life together. She wants to make it better.

There is a lot of tea in this chapter. XD Tea is my own personal drug. XD And Roy and Jade are just too cute. My friend came up with the portmanteau couple name "Joy", and I think it suits them perfectly.

So I'm trying to keep a regular update schedule, but... Well, to make a long story very short, I'm didn't get into any colleges I liked and am currently attending the one my parents told me to go to. I'm hoping to transfer for next semester, but my first choice is kind of a reach, so I have to put an absurd amount of time and energy into my grades and my applications if I even want a snowball's chance in hell. (Sorry, I'm ranting about my personal life. You guys probably don't care. XD) But I'm going to do my best to keep writing too. :) I don't like going for long periods without updating. Also tomorrow (September 6) is my birthday, so everyone reading this should review, even if you normally don't. As a birthday present. XD XD XD

Title and lyrics from "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones. Something I have learned about myself while writing Jade is that I do not listen to a lot of love songs. XD I keep struggling to title her chapters.


	12. Santa Fe

Santa Fe

_Roy_

The last time I tried to quit smoking was when Karen and Garth started complaining about the smell. And I wanted to be a fucking good roommate or whatever, so I thought, "Alright, fine. It's been a while since I tried to quit. I'm sure it'll be easier this time."

Well, next thing I knew, I was wondering non-stop which district of Steel would be the easiest to score a hit in. When I started contemplating the veins on my arm, considering which one to shoot up in, that's I went right out and bought myself a pack of Marlboros instead.  
It's not like I want to get fucking lung cancer, but it's the lesser of two evils- I just can't seem to stay off heroin without tobacco. I am, apparently, addicted to addiction.

This time, though, I am determined to make it work. I'm cold-turkeying, and maybe it won't be easy, but I don't care.

Because Jade deserves better than a junkie.

She stopped sleeping with other guys for me. Not smoking is the least I can do.

I wake up in the morning to the sound of the water running. I walk to the bathroom and open the door to the shower stall. Jade is inside, washing her now-shoulder length hair.

I slip inside the stall, letting the door close on its own as I wrap my arms around her and kiss her. Jade blushes. "Roy, I'm in the shower," she says.

"Oh, don't be shy. It's not like I haven't seen you naked." Her face flushes an even deeper red. She's so cute.

"So," I say, sliding my hands down to the small of her back, "I guess I've got you all to myself now."

She giggles. "And your breath smells fantastic."

I kiss her neck. "Brushed my teeth after my last smoke."

"Taking care of your health and your hygiene?" she jokes. "It's like Christmas in July."

I grin. "Well I've got one more present for you, then," I say. I trail my kisses down her body, across her collarbone and towards her stomach.

She gasps. "Roy, in the shower?"

"Why not? No one's gonna stop us."

"No, I guess not." She smiles, the water beating down on her face, like rain or maybe tears of joy. "Gosh, I've never been able to say that before."

My lips have reached her belly button. I draw my tongue against her wet skin and she moans softly. "Well now you can," I say. I am grinning from ear to ear. "'Cause you're all mine."

Everything I'm doing, I'm doing it for her. And that makes it worth it.

* * *

_You have __**1**__ unread message._

_To: Harper, Roy_

_From: Humphrey, Lauren_

_Subject: Paige's birthday_

_Roy,_

_So you missed Paige's birthday party._

_Do you have any idea how upset she was? You PROMISED you'd go MONTHS ago. She fucking worships you, Roy. The one fucking thing she wanted for her fucking fifth birthday was to show off her fucking big brother figure to all the other fucking five years so she could tell them that she's the luckiest fucking five year old in the fucking world. The ONE thing._

_No, scratch that, she wanted a fucking Barbie too._

_Honestly, Roy, if you ever have kids, you will understand why I am so fucking pissed off right now. Couldn't you have sent a fucking card? _

_Look, I'm still not mad. I promise, I'm not mad at you. I get it, really. You're in love. And she's a villain so you're not "supposed" to be in love with her, and that must fucking suck. And you're a teenager and you think you can handle everything on your own. I get that. I was exactly the same way when I was your age, and I was using then, so you're already a step ahead of where I was. And I am not mad at you for doing whatever it is you had to do._

_But I am concerned about you, Roy. I know this is going to sound stupid, but whatever you're going through, you don't have to go through it alone. I'm here for you, Roy. And I'm not the only one. I got a call from Dinah the other day, asking if I'd heard from you. She's really worried. And so are your friends. And so am I._

_Please write back._

_Love, Lauren._

Emma and I are at an internet café, waiting on Mercury Lace and Evelyn, who we're doing a job with. I have, once again, bought myself a half hour on the computer only to log out after five minutes,

Lauren knows about Jade. Which means that the team knows about Jade. Which means, I guess, that Jinx told them. Whatever. After what I did to her, she's fucking allowed.

But nobody has bothered to contact me. Not even a fucking email, from anyone but Lauren.

Between the fact that they have not tried to reach me and the statement they gave the press, it sort of seems like they are just trying to pretend I don't exist, that there isn't a problem. Bunch of fucking hypocrites, all of them…

Damn it. I really should have sent Paige a fucking birthday card.

And fucking Dinah called her.

Maybe I should just stop checking my goddamn email.

Emma comes back from the counter with two paper cups and a cookie the size of her head. She has already taken a bite, crumbs stuck to the corners of her mouth.

I raise an eyebrow. "Fuck, Em, that thing could eat _you_."

She giggles, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she hands me my coffee and change. "Do you want some?"

"Nah, I gotta watch what I eat," I say. "Easy to gain weight when you quit smoking."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you're quitting," she says. "It's healthy."

I wince. I promised Jade I'd tell Em what happened last night. "Speaking of quitting…"

"Jade quit the team," Emma says, staring straight ahead. "I know."

Well damn. "How do you know that?"

"Magdalena told me."

Figures. "Well, she wanted me to tell you that, even though she's not on the team anymore, she's still here for you. We both are."

"Yeah," she says quietly. "Thanks."

The funny thing is that, even though Jade quit, even though I have gotten _exactly what I came here for_, I can't leave. I have a contract, and Jade's still part of the agency, even if she's not on this particular job. And we can't just leave Emma.

And I can't exactly just expect to be welcomed back to the Titans with open arms, can I?

Or do I just…

Do I just not want to leave?

I am working as I villain. I am stealing things. And I don't feel guilty about it. I mean, I _know_ it's wrong, but I don't _feel_ it,

This should concern me more than it does.

I take a sip of my coffee, black and strong. Maybe it's just another replacement drug.

The door opens. Mercury Lace saunters inside, a pair of white-rimmed, oversized sunglasses covering most of her face. Evelyn comes in behind her, bouncing with each step. I wave at them, and as they approach the table, Evelyn pulls three envelopes from her pocket.

"My sweet sixteen's on Friday," she says, handing one envelope to Emma and two to me. One has my name on it, in hot pink bubble letters. The other says "Jade."

"I heard she quit," Evelyn says. Girls. News sure does travel fast with them. "So you'll have to give that to her, 'kay? The party won't be any fun without her."

"Can do," I say. I tilt my head towards Emma. "This party's going to be dry, right? 'Cause I don't want some guy my age to get her drunk and take advantage of her."  
Emma's eyes bug out. "Roy!"

"What? I don't."

Evelyn laughs. "No alcohol, no drugs, no guys other than you. Pinky promise."

She actually sticks out her pinky and, laughing, I link mine against it. "Emma's allowed to go then."

Em folds her arms over her chest. "You're not the boss of …" She clicks her tongue and starts picking at her cookie. "Actually you are."

Mercury Lace adjusts her sunglasses, not taking them off even though she's inside. "Can we stop the chit-chat and get a move on? I have things to do."

Evelyn gives her an exaggerated eye roll and loops her arm through hers. "Fine, fine."

"You're quite the social butterfly, Lacey," I say sarcastically.

She lowers her sunglasses just to glare at me. "Don't call me Lacey."

"Well, maybe we wouldn't if you told us your actual name," Emma says, under her breath.

Mercury Lace turns to her, eyes still narrowed. "_Excuse me_?"

"It's not _fair_," Emma snaps. "You know all of _our_ names. And we're just supposed to accept that? You could turn us in or rat us out to the press and we're _just supposed to accept that_?"

Fuck, where did this come from? "Em," I begin, laying a hand on my shoulder. She swipes it away.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieks. "Don't any of you touch me, you're all… I can't believe any of you go along with this, I can't…"  
She bursts into tears. I pull her into a hug, letting her cry against my chest. I don't know when I got so _nice_. It bothers me.

"Heather," Mercury Lace says, monotone, her sunglasses once again obscuring her face. "My name is Heather."

"Well, _Heather_," I say, "you ever make my sidekick cry again and I will _maim_ you. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good," I say, standing up and her pulling Emma to her feet. "Let's get this fucking over with."

As the four of us leave the café and start towards our destination- some old building just outside of town. Evelyn pulls me aside.

"So Jade's out, huh?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say. "She also hacked all her hair off last night."

"Really?" Evelyn gasps. "How short?"

I gesture to about my shoulders. "It's not too bad. Looks pretty on her."

"She always pretty," Evelyn comments.

"Beautiful."

Evelyn sighs, turning her face towards the sky. Her body is covered in burn marks, and the bright sunlight makes them look glossy, plastic.

"That's the thing about this business," she says quietly. "Either you die trying to get out, or you stop _wanting_ to get out." She looks at me, smiling. "Well, I guess every so often people get lucky."

It's quite the statement, coming from a girl whose sweet sixteen is on Friday.

* * *

The building, as it turns out, is a stable. There are no horses anymore, just dirty pens and the smell of manure, but it does explain the horse heads on the keys I stole.

After I let us inside, Heather reaches into her purse and pulls out another set of envelopes. "Directions," she says, as she hands them out. "From Magdalena."

I open my envelope and unfold the letter inside. It has two sentences on it:

_Roy, leave the keys in the red bucket. You won't be needing them anymore. –Magdalena_

Which just makes me want to keep them. But I guess I should do what she says. There is a red bucket by the entrance. I drop the keys inside. The metallic clink echoes inside the rotting wood structure.

I turn to Emma. "What's yours say?"

She raises her eyebrows and shows it to me. _Make like a stable hand. I want this place spotless._

Heather and Evelyn read at the note over my shoulder. "Mine says that too," Evelyn says, showing me the note. Heather tilts her head but doesn't say anything. Hers, I guess, is also identical.

"So does mine," I lie.

"She needed four people for this?" Emma grumbles.

I pat her on the back. She doesn't even flinch this time. "I'll buy you an ice cream cone when we're done," I offer.

She shrugs. "Okay."

The four of us start cleaning out the stable, clearing away trash and scrubbing I-don't-want-to-know-what from the walls. Emma hums as she works, and Evelyn bounces like a jack rabbit. Heather, at times, seems to disappear.

As I am throwing a rusted metal pipe into the street, Magdalena's note falls out of my pocket, face down. I go to pick it up, and see something written on the back.

_P.S. Don't think you and your girlfriend won't pay for what you did. :)_

Creepy.

* * *

When we find an ice cream shop, Em orders the biggest cone they sell and devourers it in a minute flat. I don't know how she keeps all that food in that tiny body of hers.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" she says, starting to walk away. Her violin case swings as she moves, knocking into her bony legs hard enough to look painful.

I stop her. "Let me walk you home," I say. Her eyes grow very, very wide.

"No that's okay," she says quickly. Too quickly.

"Emma, what's up with you today?" I ask. "You've been really weird."

She rolls her eyes at me. "I'm fine."

"Then why can't I walk you home?"

"You've never wanted to before," she says.

"Well, today I'm worried about you."

"Well don't be!" she snaps.

I move to rest a hand on her shoulder but she slaps it away again. Fine, then. No more Mr. Nice Guy.

"Emma, what the fuck are you hiding?"

She glares at me, and then in one furious motion, opens her violin case, pulls out the red velvet lining, and dumps the contents onto the pavement.

Scattered across the sidewalk is her pistol and supplies, some of the clothes Jade gave her, a toothbrush, a comb, tattered sheet music and a shredded blanket, and…

And a fucking condom.

Oh my…

That fucking bitch.

"She's making you take over Jade's job?" I shout. Emma seems to shrink in place, having gone from angry to terrified in a split second.

"Isn't she?"  
Emma opens her mouth but no sound comes out. She nods, barely.

"Oh my God. That bitch, I can't believe she'd… That fucking bitch. You're fucking thirteen! I can't…" By this point, I'm not talking, I'm _raging_. "And what's the rest of this shit for?"

Emma bites her lip. "It, um… The reason you can't walk me home is 'cause, 'cause I don't have one. I've just been living on the streets."

Fuck. Fuck that fucking… I throw the stuff back into the violin case and grab Emma's hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she squeaks.

"You're moving in with Jade and me," I tell her.

"But-"

"It's not up for discussion!" I snap. She winces. I am coming across, I realize, far too strong. She thinks I'm mad at _her_. I take a deep breath, try to cool down. I want a fucking cigarette.

"Emma, please," I say. She swallows, hard, like it hurts, then nods her head again.

Jade is on the couch reading when we get back to the apartment. She starts to smile, but it fades as soon as she sees my face.

"We've got a fucking problem," I say, letting the door slam behind me.

"What's going on?" Jade asks, timidly. I'm scaring everyone today, apparently.

"Magdalena found a replacement."

Jade looks from me to Emma, then back to me. Her book falls to the floor with a thud as she clasps her hands over her mouth.

"Omigod."

"And to top that off, Em's been living on the fucking street."

"_What_?"  
"You heard me."

Emma has started crying. "They never offered and… and Magdalena said if I didn't then… Then… And nothing happened yet and…" She buries her face in her hands.

"And I didn't know what to do," she sobs.

"She's staying here," I tell Jade.

"Of course," Jade replies. She stands. "I'll make the couch up," she says, dashing to her bedroom.

Emma stands there sobbing, her entire body shaking and little incoherent shrieking noises slipping out. It strikes me how small she is- less than five feet, I think, scrawny as a twig. She's only thirteen. At her age, I was already drinking, smoking, doing pot. I was a stupid kid.

God, she's just a kid.

I wrap my arms around her. She barely comes up to my shoulders.

"Get some sleep," I tell her. "We'll talk in the morning." She nods, trembling and soaking my shirt in tears.

She's just a kid.

* * *

Jade's pajamas are all pretty much lingerie, so Emma ends up wearing one of my shirts as a nightgown. She falls asleep pretty quickly, clutching at her violin case like a teddy bear.

Jade is sitting at the kitchen table, looking shell-shocked. I slip a mug of tea into her hands and kiss the top of her head.

"How could I let this happen?" she whispers.

I sit down next to her and clasp her hand in mine. "Baby, don't blame yourself."

Jade makes a noise that sounds like choking. "How can I not?" she says. "If I hadn't quit the job than Magdalena wouldn't have tried to… And if I'd gone over her contract with her than maybe she'd at least have a place to stay and…"

"Fucking contracts," I murmur. "How do those even work?"

"It all depends on the client," Jade replies. "They hire the girls through the agency and then everything else is on a case-by-case basis."

"What's everything?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Payment, housing… Limitations."

"So basically you guys have to do everything she tells you."

Her eyes are glassy with tears. "Basically."

I wrap an arm around her waist. "Explains a lot, doesn't it?" I say. "Her clothes, why she was wandering in an alley that night she got jumped…" God, this whole thing is just so fucking messed up.

"So what's her story?" I ask. "Em, I mean. How'd she get into this?"

Jade sighs. "Ever hear of Emmeline Dalt?"

"Yeah, of course." It was a kidnapping case, the sort of thing that starts urban legends in middle school cafeterias. All over the news when I was about fourteen.

Wait, Emmeline? "Fuck, that was her?"

Jade nods. "She was nine years old and some guy snatches her out of her bedroom, leaving her distraught single father to find her gone. That part was in the news. What wasn't in the news was that the mother had actually been behind it. She wanted to get back at him for getting custody, except that she was obviously way too crazy to raise a kid." She takes a long drink of tea and clears her throat.

"So Emma was living with her mom and this guy for about two years and... Well, she doesn't talk about it much, but I think it got pretty bad," Jade continues. "She bolted as soon as she got the chance and ended up here."

"Why didn't she go to her dad?" I ask.

"She tried," Jade replies. "But by then he'd drunk himself to death. Losing his daughter took a toll on him. And she was too scared to go to the authorities. Thought they'd send her back to her mom. So she just kept running. " She stares at Emma, who does not move at all in her sleep. Like a goddamn corpse.

"She's like a music prodigy, you know," Jade says. "Plays piano and violin. She was planning to go to a conservatory for middle school."

I nod. "I've heard her play."

Jade brings her knees to her chest and curls up against my side. She seems so fragile sometimes. I'm almost afraid of breaking her.

"Growing up, I wanted to be a dancer," she says. This is not hugely surprising, given the framed photos of ballerinas that line her bedroom walls. She smiles, sadly and just a little, like she's laughing at herself for having that sort of dream. "But that'll never happen now."

I wish I could change that. I bring her lips to mine, the best comfort I can offer her.

* * *

The three of sit down at the kitchen table at the crack of dawn, the venetian blinds scattering black and white stripes across the room. Like prison bars. I fold my arms across my chest.

"So clearly we're dealing with a sociopath," I say.

Jade rests an elbow on the table and leans her cheek on her fist. "You don't think that's a bit strong?"

"She's pimping out a thirteen-year-old," I exclaim. "Fuck, she's pimping out a seventeen-year-old."

"I'm legal in New Mexico," Jade reminds me. I reach for her hand under the table.

"I don't care," I say. She gives me a soft smile.

"Thank you," she mouths.

I nod, then change the subject. Back to the goddamn case at hand. "What does she want, anyway?" I ask. Jade looks confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what _is_ this job?" I say. "'Cause she told me I'm on a 'need-to-know' basis."

Jade bites her lip. "That's what she told me too." Emma doesn't say anything, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Oh my God.

"You mean to tell me," I say, "that between the three of us, we have _no idea_ what the job we're doing is?"

Jade sinks her head lower against her hand. "It… It's not unusual for clients to… I thought _you_ knew. With… With the jobs you've been doing at night and…"

"She's just been telling me to steal shit, I thought _you_…" Fuck this. I slam my hand against the table.

"We're quitting. Getting out of here."

"I…" Jade begins. "Yeah, I, I guess that seems like the best thing to…"

Emma looks up. She is still in my t-shirt, and it swallows her up, makes her seem scrawnier than ever.

"I wanna know what she's up to."

Jade's eyes are wide. "Emma…"

"No, Emma, we are not staying," I cut in. Emma gives me a sharp look.

"Think about it, Roy," she says. "If we leave, what's going to happen? She'll hire a new girl- my age, so she can manipulate her- and then she'll just proceed as planned. And no one will be there to stop her."

Jade shuts her eyes, fighting back tears. I squeeze her hand. "Emma, don't be brave."

"I'm not," Emma says. "But if we don't do something, no one will. She'll get away with it."

"So you think we should play her from the inside."

"Roy, we're _definently_ dealing with a sociopath," Emma says. She looks me right in the eye, with the same confidence I saw in her when she played the piano. "And now that we know what she's capable of, we can't just leave."

It is a really fucking good point, and I wish it wasn't.

Jade has started crying. "Emma's right," she whispers.

Damn it. "Fine," I say. "But as soon this is over, the three of us are leaving."

"And going where?" Emma asks.

"The Titans? I…" I don't know. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Emma nods again, then sticks her hand in towards the center of the table. Jade, smiling a little, puts hers on top.

"I don't like this," I say again. We're digging our own graves here. Drawing up our own fucking wanted posters.

But I put my hand in.

The Magnificent fucking Seven, give or take a few.

_We'll pack up all our junk and fly so far away  
Devote ourselves to projects that sell  
We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe  
Forget this cold Bohemian hell  
Oh-  
Oh-  
Do you know the way to Santa Fe?  
You know, tumbleweeds...prairie dogs...  
Yeah_

* * *

Author's Notes:

Really, I don't know if what the three of them are about to do is noble or just stupid. Especially given how little guilt Roy feels about his more questionable actions. Having a quasi-heroic goal is not going to make him feel worse about them. If anything, it will make him feel even _less_ guilty, because he'll feel like the ends justify the means.

Roy, after all, is playing the role of a western hero, thrust into no-man's land. And in no-man's land, you find out what kind of man you are.

Um, that's it. XD I really don't have much to say about this chapter. Which is weird, because it's such a major plot development, but I guess I feel like it stands on its own. There's nothing I really feel the need to elaborate on. Oh, except that The Magnificent Seven are basically the western movie equivalent of The Three Musketeers. I tried to think of a way for a Roy to explain that but it sounded clunky, so I figured I'd just explain the reference here. XD

Oh and regarding the shower scene: my earliest outline for this story was a lot... I don't want to say "raunchier", but... XD "Grittier", maybe? The characters were less sympathetic, the crimes were more overt, and Roy and Jade's relationship was based a lot more on sex. At some point the story took a more romantic turn, but the shower scene is a hold-over. I just couldn't let that scene go. XD

On another note: Thank you all for the kind birthday greetings! ^-^ And for the sympathy regarding my personal life- I really don't have words for how much that means to me. And I also want to thank you guys for making this the most reviewed SpeedyxCheshire story on the site! I couldn't ask for a better birthday present! ^-^ You guys are amazing!

Title and lyrics from "Santa Fe" from _Rent_. I just could not resist using Rent's "Santa Fe as utopia" song right in chapter where they begin to realize how wrong things are. XD


	13. Tune Up Number 2

Tune-Up #2

_ Evelyn_

I don't know why Magdalena has us working from an abandoned stable, but I'm glad she is. I'm in my element here. I was raised around animals, and horses have always been my favorite. The place might be covered in mud, but I don't mind getting my hands dirty

The man in the chair's head slumps into his chest, which makes me pout. "Gone already? That wasn't even fun." This guy was sort of different from the others. He kept crying and asking about "Alyssa". It was almost sad.

Heather raises her eyebrows at me as she opens her briefcase. "We got what we needed."

"Yeah, but he cracked so easy." I perch myself on the railing of the stall, and start tossing a stray horseshoe from hand to hand. The wood in this stall seems like rotting. I'll have to be careful not to burn the whole place down. "I wanted to play with him a little."

Heather picks up a syringe and considers it. "Maybe the dose was too high." She pulls out her notebook and pen and starts writing something done. I peek over her shoulder- it's a math formula that don't understand at all. I just rest my chin on the top of her head and watch her work. She bites her lips when she thinks, it's totally adorable.

I guess Heather's not someone most people would describe as adorable. But I think she is. She's really pretty, shorter than me with long blond hair and the most unbelievably beautiful blue eyes. Her eyelashes are as pale as her hair, which makes her eyes seem even lighter, cold like ice. But I don't have a problem warming things up.

I'm playing with her hair, which makes her roll her eyes. "Oy, Ev, you're distracting me."

I laugh and let go. "Sorry, Heather." Heather. It's such a cute name. It's kinda funny that that's her name, 'cause come to think of it, in sixth grade my friends and I had this total eighties movies phase, and when we watched _Heathers, _that was when I realized I'm gay. 'Cause I was more interested in Shannen Doherty than Christian Slater.

"I'm glad you told me your name," I say. "I like being able to say it. Heather." I giggle. "Heather Heather Heather."

"Whatever," she says. But she's smiling too.

She closes her notebook and going over to the man in the chair. She presses her fingers against his neck. "No heartbeat. We're clear."

I hop off the railing and flame up. It doesn't hurt today. "Cool beans, I'll take care of the body."

It's a warm night, and it smells like horses and straw and summertime. As I burn the corpse to ashes, I think of my old summer routines from years, riding my horse all day and then sitting around the campfire with my brothers at night, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows

"I guess I should get home, then," Heather says. "I'll catch you later."

"You're leaving now?" I ask.

"Same as always."

I stick out my bottom lip. "But it's my biirthdaay," I say, singing the word like in the "Happy Birthday" song.

She rolls her eyes again and checks her pocket watch- silver, the old fashioned kind. "Not for one more minute it's not."

I let the flames on my hands die out, then wrap my arms around her neck. "And I want you with me every second of it."

She shakes her head in mock exasperation, strands of white-blonde hair in her eyes. "Fine."

I grab her watch and follow the secondhand as it ticks down. "Three, two, one…"

Heather kisses me, just as the clock hits twelve. "Happy now, birthday girl?"

"Yuppers," I giggle. "Now where's my present?"

"I'll stay out all night with you," she says. "That count?"

I stamp my foot. "No, it most certainly does not!"

"You're cute when you're pouty," she tells me. "Don't worry. I'll give it to you at your party, just like everyone else."

"Good," I say. "And you're still staying out with me all night."

"Fine," she says, playing annoyed again. "But only because it's your birthday. So where to first?" she asks.

I bounce up and down on my toes. I'm full of energy to burn. "Let's find somewhere for cake!"

"At midnight?"

"Yeah, there's gotta be like an all-night grocery store nearby or somethin'," I say. I tilt my head. "Or if you want to save cake for later, I can think of a few present you could give me now."

She smiles. "Oh, can you?"

I kiss her again. I'm pretty sure I'm the first girl she's ever been with. It makes me feel experienced, and mischievous. I'm determined to ruin boys for her. I draw her lips into my mouth. Her skin is freezing but she tastes like spun sugar.

Happy birthday to me.

_A wild night is now pre-ordained_

* * *

Author's Notes: Um, I'm gonna do these notes jointly with the next chapter because I'm uploading these at the same time and it'll make more sense that way. XD

Title and lyrics from "Tune-Up #2", from _Rent_.


	14. Sound of the Underground

Sound of the Underground

_Jade_

"Oh, hey, Roy. Is this your girlfriend?"

Considering that all three of us are living there now, our apartment was too obvious a base of operations. So Roy, Emma and I have decided to hold something of a business meeting at a "saloon" downtown, where the two of them have come to train before. The sign says closed but the door is unlocked, and we're greeted by a brunette in an apron

"Yup, this is her," Roy says, wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing the side of my head. It's like he's proud, showing me off, and it makes me blush. No one's ever made me feel that special before. "Jade, this is Haylee, she works here. She's letting us use the place."

I smile. "Nice to meet you," I say. "And thanks."

"You too," Haylee says, smiling back. She's pretty, maybe a year or two older than me, with green eyes and a friendly smile. "Roy talks about you all the time."

"You do?" I ask.

"Of course I do," he says, and my heart flutters.

Haylee waves at Emma, then says, "Well I gotta finish cleaning up before we open. Let me know if you guys need anything." She disappears into the back room, hidden behind a swinging wooden door labeled "Cookery" The sepia-toned portraits on the walls are poorly costumed, obvious fakes. I can't decide if this place is tacky on purpose, or if it's really trying to be authentic and just not doing a very good job. Either way, it's empty, and it'll work for what we need.

Emma sits down on the piano bench in the corner of the room, and Roy and I take the table next to it.

"So we need a plan," I say. Roy taps his fingers against the edge of table. Since he stopped smoking, he's had a jumble of little nervous ticks. It's kind of cute.

"I suck at plans," he grumbles.

"Well, three heads are better than one," I say. They both half-smile at that.

"We should start with what we know," Emma decides. She takes a notebook and pen out her violin case. "Make a list." She seems to have this all thought out.  
I've been in this business since I was her age. And I've only just gotten up the nerve to get out of it. At her age, I never would have been able to quit, much less think up something like this.

She's smarter than I am. Braver too.

She's only thirteen. She shouldn't have to be this smart and brave.

"You start," Roy tells her.

Emma purses her lips. "Well, I know she's a major bitch…"

Roy chuckles darkly. "And if only that got us somewhere."

"I'll start," I say. What I know isn't much, but it's concrete. A starting point. "She had me seducing guys, pretending to date them, then after a while I'd give them an address and tell them to meet me."

Emma writes this down. "And then?"

"I wouldn't be there when they showed up."

"Must be Heather and Evelyn's part of the job," Roy says.

"What about you two?" I ask. "What have you been doing?"

"Other than almost being whored out?" Emma says sharply. Roy reaches out and squeezes her hand. His kindness towards her never ceases to amaze me. I think he thinks he's not a nice person.

He's wrong about that.

"We're mostly just stealing things," he says.

"Maybe we should write down what you've stolen?" I suggest. "You know, take inventory."

Emma nods. "So there was the briefcase," she begins.

"And a set of keys, a car engine, a Bunsen burner, couple of cases of wine, some unmarked boxes, a bunch of hospital supplies…" Roy continues.

"What were the keys for?" I ask.

"A stable," he answers. "She had us clean it."

That's weird. "Do you think she's hiding something there?"

"Maybe," he says. "I guess we could start there. Try to get the keys back."

"How are we gonna do that?" Emma asks.

"I dunno." Roy bites a fingernail. "Fuck, I need something to eat. Haylee?"

She pokes her head through the door. "You rang?"

"Three chocolate milk shakes. And all the fries you got."

"What's the magic word?"

"_The customer is always right_."

"Well, I was looking for 'abracadabra', but…" She laughs, as she slips out out of sight. "Coming right up."

I giggle. "You're cranky."

He raises his eyebrows. "I'm craving a high."

I give him a soft smile and take his hand in mine. "Let me know if you need anything."

Roy smiles back, and rests his other hand on my knee. "I got everything I need."

I am blushing again. "So what do we do about… You know, my job." I hate to bring it up, but we can't just ignore it.

"Well Emma's not doing it," Roy states.

"But who's going to if I don't?" Emma protests. "We can't let her hire someone else."

"I…" I don't want to offer this. But I have to. "I could do it."

"No," Roy says. "No, I won't let either of you do this."

I start to reply, but Haylee comes out of the kitchen, carrying a large plate and three glasses. She sets them on the table, and the sound seems much too loud in the empty air.

"Oh, Emma, I talked to my boss about that piano gig," she says. "He says he'd love to have you."

Emma's face lights up. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'll let you know as soon as I have the date."

Emma smiles and brushes her hair out of her eyes. "Thanks."

"No problem," Haylee says, heading back to the kitchen. "Just holler if you need anything else." Roy starts at the fries, holding them between the fingers of his left hand the same way he held his cigarettes.

"I have to go back, Roy," I say.

He reaches out, brushes a lock of my hair behind my ear and then lets his fingers linger on my cheek. "Jade, look what it made you do to yourself. If you go back… What's going to happen next?"

I feel like I might cry. Nobody's ever cared about me this much before.

"Anyway, if you go back it'll look suspicious," Emma comments, shyly. "We have to… We have to look like we're still under her thumb. Pretend like we're…" She looks down, doesn't finish. Roy hands her a milkshake, and she mouths "thanks" as she gulps it down. I take a sip of my own- it's sweet and rich, but feels much too thick against my throat. It hurts to swallow.

"My god," I say, and it feels like choking, "what are we doing to do?"

Roy exhales, a solemn look in his eyes. "We'll figure it out," he whispers. His hand inches it's way up my leg, from my knee to my thigh and under the edge of my skirt.

Emma, noticing this, goes wide-eyed. "Oh my God," she says. "Oh my God, you're…" She hurls her milkshake onto the floor, and it smashes

"You're fucking her!" Emma screams, standing up so fast and hard that the piano bench topples over. "I can't believe this, you're..." She near tackles Roy, knocking his onto the floor as she pounds his chest with her fists. The milkshake lies on the floor beside them, puddle of broken glass and liquid the consistency of blood. From a distance, this would look like a scene of carnage.

"I trusted you!" she screams. "How could you, how could you do this, how…"

I rush over to them and pull her off. "Emma, what's-"

"He's fucking you!" she shrieks, before I can finish. "Why would you let him…"

Oh. Oh my God. "Emma," I say. "Emma it's not like that."

"Not like…" She looks at me, tears streaming down her face. "You mean you're _not_ having sex with him?"

"I…" How do I explain this to her? To a girl who has no idea what love is supposed to feel like.

Four years ago I was that girl, wasn't I?

How did I get out of it alive?

"Em, I…" Roy begins, cautiously. "I love her."

"And I love him," I finish.

"And that makes it okay?" she squeaks, her face and voice distorted by crying.

"I... Yeah," I say. "It does."

She buries her face in her hands, sobbing. I wrap my arms around her. Roy takes one of my hands, and rests his other one on her back. To my surprise, she doesn't fight it.

How are we going to get out of this alive?

* * *

The party is a distraction.

That tends to be the way parties work around here. Every so often- birthdays, Christmas, nights when we just can't take it anymore- we throw together the biggest, loudest, wildest event we can, put on high heels and make-up and do our hair. It is an elaborate game of make-believe- regular girls dress up like princesses, we dress up like regular girls.

I am wearing my highest heels and a skin-tight purple satin mini-dress. I've even curled my hair- I could never do that when it was down to my knees, and at this length it looks bouncy and cute. I am the only girl whose boyfriend will be at the party, and I plan on flaunting it.

I've never had a date to a party before.

I wonder sometimes what my life would be like if my mom hadn't died. If none of this had happened. I'd be going into my senior year of high school right now. I think I'd like school. I love to read, and I've always wished I was smarter. And I'd do ballet, instead of martial arts. Maybe I'd be a cheerleader. I can't even imagine what my social life would be like. Would I have had a date to junior prom? Would I have even gone? I feel like I would have- I don't think I'd be the sort of person to shy away from school events, but I don't know. I'm so used to being on the outside looking in. To being alone. Even if I lived a normal life, maybe I still would be.

But I'm not alone anymore. I have Roy. And I can't imagine having a prom date who isn't him.

The party is in the basement of Evelyn's apartment building. It looks the same as all of her parties- bright colors, flashing lights, loud music. A bunch of the girls from our agency are here- Roy's the only guy- and there's a table covered in junk food and cupcakes with pink frosting. Evelyn rushes up to us as we enter.

"Guys! I'm so glad you made it!" she exclaims, sing-song. She flings her arms around me. "Hey there, sexy!"

I smile. "You look amazing," I tell her. Evelyn has on a shimmery fuchsia dress with a tutu skirt, which she's accessorized with loads of sparkly plastic jewelry, a faux feather boa, a silver tiara, and glittery make-up. It looks a bit like a party store exploded all over her, but it fits her personality. And if you aren't allowed to go a little wild on your sweet sixteen, well, when are you?

Roy hands her the present he's carrying. "From all three of us," he says. Evelyn squeals with delight as she tears off the wrapping paper, revealing a Gwen Stefani t-shirt and a sequined handbag.

"Omigod, Jade, you remembered my crush on Gwen!" she laughs. "And the bag is adorable!" She hugs him, then Emma, then me again. "Thank you guys so much! I gotta go but I'll talk to you later, okay?" She scampers off, leaving the present on a table of opened boxes before going to greet someone else.

Emma is wringing her hands together, I managed to find a party dress that fits her- pale blue, babydoll cut- but she's hidden it with a bulky black sweatshirt and her combat boots. She's not much of the party type. "I'm gonna get something to eat," she murmurs, wandering off.

Roy turns to me, grinning, and wraps his arms around my hips.. "Looks like it's just us, then."  
I rest my arms on his shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck. "Dance with me?"

He rolls his eyes. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"I love having a boyfriend."

He kisses me, and I pull him onto the dance floor. Just a normal girl and her normal boyfriend.

* * *

Evelyn catches up with Roy and I a few hours later, while we're sitting one of the small tables set up, sharing a plate full of candy and pastries. "Are you guys having fun?" she asks.

I raise a cupcake, like a toast. "It's a great party. I even got Roy to dance with me."

"I saw," she says, laughing. "I think every straight girl in the room was jealous of you."

I giggle. "Mission accomplished."

Evelyn grabs a cupcake and flops into the chair next to me. "I haven't tried one of these yet," she say. "Heather baked 'em, you know."

Roy raises an eyebrow. "You're kidding me."

"Heather, that's-?" I begin.

"Mercury Lace," Roy explains. I didn't realize she had told them her name. "I'm surprised she even came."

"Of course she did," Evelyn replies. "I mean, would you miss Jade's birthday party?"

"No, but…" Roy nearly spits out a mouthful of food. "You mean… You and _Heather_?"

Evelyn smiles sheepishly. "Didn't I mention that?"

I shake my head. I knew she was gay, but I never would've guessed that she and Mercury Lace were a couple. Roy's mouth is still open. "So you're gay?"

"Yup."

"And she's gay?"

Evelyn shrugs. "Not strictly."

"And you're a _couple_?"

I giggle and dab a bit of hot pink frosting on his nose with my finger. "I think she made that pretty clear."

He smirks at me. "You gonna clean that up?"

I lean in, lick the frosting off his nose, and then pull away. "Tease," he whispers. I smile innocently, and then turn back to Evelyn.

"So how long have you two been together?"

"About six months," Evelyn answers. "Since we started the job."

That's strange. "You've been on this sixth months?" I ask. "I've only been on it four."

Evelyn tilts her head. "Really? That's weird."

Roy raises an eyebrow at me from across the table. I know what he's thinking. What were they doing for those two months?

I don't want to interrogate her at her birthday party. I don't want to interrogate her at all. She's my friend. But we have to get to the bottom of this.

"You know what I just realized, Ev?" I ask, trying to sound casual. "I've known you for years but I don't know anything about your life. About… About how you got here."

Maybe it's not the best question. Maybe it's a horrible thing for me to be asking her right now. But I have to.

I am so tired of having to do horrible things.

Evelyn leans her chin on her hand. I guard my story with my life, but she begins hers with a smile on her face. "Well, I've got two little brothers and my rents were both doctors. We lived in a subarb of San Antonio during the school year and we had a ranch in the countryside where we used to spend the summers. I had a pony named Glitter who was like my life."

Roy chuckles. "Of course her name was Glitter."

"I bedazzled her saddle and everything," Evelyn laughs. "Anyway, um… The question was how I got in the biz?"

I shrug. "You don't have to answer, if it's too personal." Roy reaches for my hand under the table. I think he can sense my nerves.

"No way, we're friends, it's totally cool" Evelyn chirps, playfully swatting my arm. "I guess it started three years ago today. On my thirteenth birthday. That was when my powers kicked in. Woke up that morning and I was on fire. But before I could scream it went out." She snaps her fingers, and a little red spark flares up, like a firework. "Just like that."

"I kept it a secret for ages, teaching myself to control it," she says. "But then one day I was at a party and this girl got totally drunk and knocked a candle over and... I mean, I couldn't just let the place burn down."

"Word spread like a forest fire." She giggles. "No pun intended."

"Things got weird after that," she continues. Under the flashing neon lights, the scars that cover her body seem to shimmer, a mermaid's scales. Perhaps that's a funny thing to associate with burn scares. "The whole town started avoided my family. 'Cause they didn't want the neighbors to associate them with that freaky-gay-mutant McAllister girl. Then one day at school I got called to the principal's office, but the person waiting for me wasn't from my school. Turned out she was an agent from the Sirens. She offered me a job, but I turned her down. The next day my parents got into a car accident."

She says this with no change in tone. The same perky Evelyn as always.

My God, the things this job will do to you.

"After that the agent tracked me down again and made me another offer," Evelyn says. "If I agreed to join the Sirens, they'd pay for my brothers to go to one of the best boarding schools in the country. We didn't have any relatives to take us in and foster care woulda split 'em up, so I agreed.

She smiles. "So I guess that's it. They're eight and ten now. Really cute. Oh, I got their school pictures in my wallet…" She grabs her purse and pulls out two tiny photos. "That's Nicky and that's Owen. Cute right?" They are beaming, bright-eyed boys, who have no idea what she has done for them.

"Adorable," Roy answers. I just nod and smile.

There is a Girls Aloud song playing. "Sound of the Underground". In my experience, the underground sounds like gunshots and gasps for breath and rave music. The beat pulsates through the room, attracting the dancing, half-naked partygoers- little girls all dressed up with no one to impress- like moths to a flame.

* * *

"I don't know if I can do this."

Roy shuts the door of the bedroom door softly. Emma has already fallen asleep, still in her party, and we are tiptoeing as so not to wake her. He rests a hand on my shoulder. "I don't like it either."

"We're betraying them," I say. I feel like I might cry. "Heather and Evelyn. It feels wrong."

"It's all wrong," he says. "Doing the job's wrong. Turning on it's wrong." He sits down on the edge of the bed, his eyes downcast. "There's no way out."

I sit next to him. "What are we going to do?" He doesn't answer. Instead he kisses me. Since he quit smoking, it's like I can taste his breath, rich and warm like dark chocolate.

"Well right now I'm going to rip that dress off of you," he murmurs. "We can go from there."

I can't help but smile at that. "We'll figure out a way out of this," I say. I wish I believed it.

"We will," he says. When he says it I almost do. He kisses me again, light as a butterfly flapping it's wings, and everything feels better. I have read about the Butterfly Effect- that the tiniest flap of those wings can set off a chain reaction, large enough to change the fate of the world. Whenever he kisses me, touches me, any tiny brush of his skin against mine, my whole world just lights up.

For the first time in my life I know what love is. And it's beautiful.

_Don't know what it's pushin' me higher _

_It's the static from the floor below_

_ Then its drops and catches like a fire _

_It's a sound I, it's a sound I know_

_It's the sound of the underground _

_The beat of the drum goes round and round_

_ In to the overflow_

_ Where the girls get down to the sound of the radio _

_Out to the electric night _

_Where the bass line jumps in the backstreet lights _

_The beat goes around and round_

_ It's the sound of the under_

_ Sound of the underground_

* * *

Author's Notes:

Ack sorry I know I said on my profile I thought I'd update like two days ago. I thought I'd have a chance to finish this Thursday night but I wound up having six hours of art homework instead of my anticipated two because, as it turns out, I can't draw and it took me three tries to get a self-portrait that didn't completely make me want to shoot myself. XD XD

Also, sorry this chapter's a little filler-y. It's another case where I'm biding time so I can set up the major plot points coming up. I don't think there'll be too much more filler in the rest of the story.

So let's talk about Evelyn, since these last two chapters are pretty focused on her. In a recent review, UltimateYugiohFan described Evelyn as a "quirky, hyper demon", which I thought was such a perfect description of her. Because she's this adorable, crazy little rave-kid. And yet she's going around killing people. I think a big part of why Evelyn remains so perky and upbeat in spite of her job is because she's really doing this for the noblest of reasons. She's a villain to save her little brothers, and I think that helps her (unconsciously. I don't think she's too aware of this) rationalize her actions; she's not a _bad_ person, because even though she does bad things, she does them for a good reason. I also think that, frankly, Evelyn is not mature enough to realize the implications of her actions. Occasionally (like in chapter 12, when she discusses the nature of villainy), she makes some really profound observations. But mostly she's a sixteen year old girl, and even though she has a sense of responsibility towards her brothers, her priorities are dating and partying. Not that there aren't fifteen/sixteen year olds (and younger) who are very mature. There absolutely are. (I don't really believe maturity has all that much to do with age, I guess?) But for whatever reason, Evelyn just isn't one of them. She's the most child-like of the main characters, even more so than Emma, who is significantly younger, and that's why being a villain bothers her the least.

Oh and about that car accident. The Sirens orchestarted it. Evelyn doesn't know that, which is why she doesn't mention it. But they did. They wanted her to work for them, and they killed her parents in order to get her in a position where she wouldn't have a choice.

And Jade. Oh Jade. You beautiful, sweet, hopeless romantic you. I actually really admire people like her, who are able to be kind and optimistic in the face of adversary and tragedy. It's so hard to write all these awful things that keep happening to her because she's just so lovely and I just want her to be happy. XD

Title and lyrics from "Sound of the Underground" by Girls Aloud. Originally, this chapter was "Tea Party" and chapter 5 was "Sound of the Underground", but I decided it worked better if I switched them.


	15. Steady as the Beating Drum

Steady as the Beating Drum

_Roy_

My mistake was forgetting to barricade the door.

It's a rookie error. Exactly the sort of thing I would specifically tell Emma not to do. Exactly the sort of thing Ollie would tell _me_ not to do.

This means that, instead of struggling at the door before calling security, which would give me time to bail, the nurse walks right into the storage room. This is my third time stealing hospital supplies and so far I have had no trouble. Guess the third time's the charm.

She screams when she sees me. As a five-foot-ten guy in a mask, I guess I shouldn't be surprised by this reaction.

"Fuck," I murmur. I try to think on my feet, figure out a smart way out of here, but the only thing I can come up with is jumping out the window. I whip out explosive arrow, blow the damn window up and proceed to do just that.

The room was only on the first floor, so I land alright, but it doesn't matter. It's too late. By the time I pick myself off the ground and start running, the hospital alarm is blaring, and there are security guards at my heels and people shouting from every direction.

"We have a supervillain attack on Christus St. Vincent."

"Ground floor, breach of security, I need-"

A light flashes in my face. How the fuck did a reporter get here so fast?

"Can we get a name on the villain? Is he new?" I hear him say, I don't know who to.

The villain.

Technically, Em and Jade and I are working against Magdalena now. But we don't want her to know that, so we're trying to act like nothing has happened. Which means I'm still running jobs for her. Still stealing and hurting innocent people.

And it gets easier every time.

"It's Jabberwock," I growl. And then I punch him in the face, knock him out cold, and I bolt.

* * *

I wake up when something hits my head.

"Ow!" I exclaim. I sit up, rubbing my forehead, and see Emma standing by the bed, glaring at me. "Em, what the fuck?" I pick up the object she threw at me- today's paper.  
"Page four," she snaps. I open it.

There is a full color picture of me.

It's from a distance and kind of grainy and overlit by the rising sun. But it's definitely me. It's followed by a lengthy article, headlined _WHO IS JABBERWOCK?_

Fuck. "This ain't good."

Jade, half-awake and curled up against my chest, takes the paper out of my hands and skims the article. "If it's any consolation, that picture makes you look really hot."

I grin. "It does, doesn't it?"

Em swats me upside the head. "How could you let this happen?"

"I'm sorry, I slipped up," I say. I sigh and lean my head against the headboard. "God, Magdalena's gonna crucify my for this, isn't she?"

The phone rings, and I check the I.D. "Oh fuck off, it's her."  
Jade giggles. "Maybe it's like, you say her name enough times and she hears you. You know, like Beetlejuice."  
"Or Bloody fucking Mary," I grumble. I hit the receive button. "What?"

"Roy? It's Magdalena. We need to talk." Her voice is all sugar and syrup and for some reason it makes me crazy.

"About the fact that you tried to whore out my thirteen-year-old sidekick?"  
"Roy!" Emma exclaims.

"Not now."

Magdalena chuckles. "I figured you'd know about that by now," she says. "How about the two of you come over at six this evening, and we'll chat?"

I am clenching the phone so hard I think I might break it. This is what happens when I don't have my cigarettes, apparently. "Fine," I answer, through gritted teeth. "If Jade can come."

"Well that's up to her. I'll see you later." She hangs up, leaving a ringing in my ears. Like a bad hangover. I slam the phone back onto the receiver.

Jade gently runs a finger down my chest. "Come to what?"

"She wants to meet with us at six," I explain. "I think you deserve the option of being there."

"Roy, you can't make a big deal out of the thing with me," Emma says. Her voice is firm but she's wringing her hands together. "We have to seem like we're on her side."  
"Frankly, Em, right now I'm a little more considered about whether you're still a virgin by the end of this," I say. She sits down on the end of the bed, arms wrapped around her frail body. Truth is, I have a sinking suspicion that she's already not a virgin, and her reaction doesn't do anything to challenge that theory.

"Stop trying to protect me," she murmurs.

"You're my sidekick," I reply. "It's kinda my job." She gives me a small smile but doesn't respond.

I kiss Jade on the top of her head. "So looks like I got the whole afternoon free."

She grins. "Looks like it."

"And what does my beautiful girlfriend want to do with that time?"

Emma rolls her eyes. "You two make me sick," she says.

Jade giggles. "Whatever we do, can there be chocolate involved?"

"Jade, baby, not in front of the kid," I joke. Jade laughs again.

"No, I mean I'm really craving chocolate," she says. "It's kind of…" She tilts her head side to side.

I don't get it. "Kind of what?"

"I'm on my period," she explains, blushing

"Oh." Now _I'm_ embarrassed. "God, Jade, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

She smiles shyly. "I know, I just… Are girls supposed to talk to their boyfriends about things like that?"  
God, sometimes I remember just how fucked up her life has been. "If he's a good boyfriend." Which, admittedly, I haven't always been. I had quite the reputation back in high school. "Jade, you can talk to me about anything."

She smiles and kisses me. Grinning back, I slip my tongue into her mouth and run my fingers through her hair.

Emma throws her hands in the air. "I'm leaving."

* * *

"God, it's been a while since I've seen anything like this," I murmur.

Jade and I have decided to spend the afternoon wandering around downtown, and we've ended up at the Wheelwright Museum of the American Indian. Seeing the traditional art- pottery and rugs and quilts decorated with beads and images of animals in warm brown and burgundy- makes me nostalgic for… Well, home. Can I even still call it that? I was in elementary school when I left Arizona. It was before I was a hero, before Ollie, before the drugs. It feels like a lifetime ago.

"It's really beautiful," Jade says, gazing at a woven rug hanging on the wall. "Is it Navajo?"

"Yeah, I think so," I reply. "That pattern's a pretty common one. And the squares on the border represents like a stairway to the clouds. It's like a good luck thing,"

"That's so neat," Jade says. She rests her head on my shoulder. "I've got my own personal tour guide."

"I don't know _that_ much," I say, feeling sheepish for some reason. "Well, I guess it was a pretty big part of my life."

"Do you ever think about going back and visiting?" she asks. "Seeing the people you grew up with?

"I mean, I _think_ about it," I answer. "But legally, they're not my family and… I don't know. Maybe someday."

Jade smiles, sadly. "Sometimes I think about going to New York tracking down my mother's body," she muses. "I don't even know why. Maybe it would give me closure. Or maybe I just want to feel like she knows I'm alright."

I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close. "Maybe she already knows," I say. "The Diné, uh, that's the Najavo people, well we don't really have a strict idea of the afterlife, but one of the beliefs…" I try to think how to word this. It's been so long since it was said to me. "What Brave Bow told me, when I started to realize that he was going to die, was that, no matter what happened to him, I'd still be able to find him, in nature. That his body would be in the earth, and when I needed it to be, his spirit would be there too, in the air. He said he believed you could hear the voices of the dead in the wind, if you knew how to listen." Fuck, I don't know when I got so damn spiritual. "I'm sorry. That sounded ridiculous."

Jade shakes her head. "I thought it was beautiful." She sighs, dropping her head just a bit. "I don't think she'd be proud of me."  
"I don't think he'd be proud of me," I say.

"He should be."

I look at the ground. No he shouldn't. "Her too."

* * *

Jade has to use the bathroom before we leave the museum, and I wait for her in the gift shop. While I'm there, a necklace catches my eye. A small silver locket, round with a traditional Navajo pattern carved on the edges and a little green stone in the center.

I wave down the saleslady. "Excuse me, is that turquoise?" I ask.

"It's actually jade," she answers. I've never heard of jade being used by the Navajo before.

"It's a local artist," the saleslady continues, seeing the confused look on my face. "She's half Chinese and half Navajo."

It couldn't be more perfect. "How much?" I ask, taking out my wallet.

She narrows her eyes, like she doesn't believe I can pay for it. "One-hundred and twenty-five dollars."  
I count out one-hundred-fifty in cash. "Keep the change. Consider it a donation."

The saleslady counts my money three times, shocked, before unlocking the display case and ringing the necklace up for me. I seem to be shocking a lot of people today.

Jade enters the gift shop and rushes up to me. "Ready to go?"

I hold the box behind my back. "Close your eyes."

She tilts her head. "Why?"

"You'll see."

She half-smiles, suspicious, and shuts her eyes. I take the necklace and drape it around her neck. "Open."  
She opens her eyes and gasps. "Oh, Roy… It's beautiful. Thank you so much."

I shrug. "It was nothing. Guess what the stone in the center is."

She presses a hand to her mouth. "It's jade, isn't it?" she whispers. I nod. She places her hands on the sides of my face and kisses me.

"I love it," she says. "I'll never take it off."

I kiss her again. I wonder, vaguely, if her mother really is here, in the air, when she needs her.

Ms. Nguyen, if you're listening: I'll take care of her for you. I promise.

* * *

I have saved the condom from Emma's violin case, and the first thing I do when we arrive at Magdalena's hotel room is throw it at her.

"Fucking bitch."

Magdalena, dressed all in black, leans back on the couch. "Is that a come in?"

"No, it wasn't," Jade replies coolly. "But if _that_ was, I will personally rip your throat out."

Magdalena laughs. "_You_ will? I'd pay money to see that." She turns to me. "Now what did you want to talk about."

"Don't play dumb. She's fucking thirteen, you fucking-" I am about to call her the single nastiest word I can think of when she cuts me off.

"Sit."

Jade, Emma and I exchange glances. None of us particularly want to follow her orders, but we also need this conversation to go somewhere.

We sit.

"Listen," Magdalena says, soothingly, like we're goddamn children. "I never meant to cause such a problem. It's just that I have a job I need done, and since I lost such a valuable member of the team, I've had to be resourceful." She smiles at me. "I'm sure you understand a thing or two about having to be resourceful. You are an Indian, after all. A red man." The words come from the back of her throat, a growl or a pick-up line.

If she's trying to rile me up it's working. "Get to the damn point."

"And don't pretend you like me," Jade says. "We both know it's not true."

Magdalena laughs. She's like a werewolf, her smile hiding those teeth of hers. "You think you're so clever, don't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Leave her the hell alone," Emma cuts in. "She doesn't work for you."

"No, but the two of _you_ do," Magdalena snaps. Every trace of false reassurance is gone from her voice and expression. She bears her teeth like fangs. She is pure wolf now. "And if that's the way you want to have it that's how we'll have. You," she points a long, black-tipped fingernail at me, "better do every damn thing I tell you, no questions, or I _will_ make Emma do Jade's job."

"Who's doing it in the meantime?" Jade asks. Magdalena slaps her across the face.

"That's none of your business, bitch."

I tackle her, with every ounce of strength in my body.

"Don't talk to her like that!"

"Roy, it's okay, I'm fine," Jade whispers. I barely register it. I am seeing red, hearing static in my ears. How dare she talk to Jade like that… How _dare_ she… I keep throwing punches.

"You bitch!" I scream. "You fucking-"

Jade pulls me off, wraps me in her arms. After a moment I realize I am short of breath. After another moment I catch it. And then my vision clears and I get a good look at what I've done.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can my face in a mirror hanging on the wall.

A monster has been unleashed.

A Jabberwock.

Magdalena's face is red and swollen and bleeding, but it doesn't even seem to phase her. She stands up, brushes off her clothes, and then seats herself back on the couch, legs crossed at the ankles.

"I think we understand each other then," she says, smiling at me. "You do what I say, or it's the two of them that pay for."

I grit my teeth, so hard it hurts. "Deal."

"Also," Magdalena says, holding up a copy of that damned newspaper article. "Don't get caught again."

"Touch her again and _I'll _rip your throat out." When Jade said it, it was an empty threat.

And when I do?

"Deal," she says.

I head for the door, but I stop just as I reach it. "And it's Native fucking American," I snap, slamming the door as I leave.

* * *

"Roy, what was that?" Jade asks, as we step onto the street.

"I'm sorry," I say. It's the only thing I can think to say. "Are you mad?"

She shakes her head. "I'm concerned." She touches the side of my face, her fingers gentle and graceful as a cat, a dancer. "You got pretty worked up in there. Are you okay? Is… Is it cravings again, are…"

"I'm fine. " I say. A lock of hair has fallen in her eyes. I reach out and brush it away. "I just couldn't stand hearing her talk to you like that."

"You can't let her get to her."  
"I know. I just… I don't know what came over me. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

She trails her fingers across my lips. "Thank you," she says. "I… she smiles and glances at the sidewalk, her face flushed. The sun has begun to set, coloring her porcelain skin a pale pink. Painting the roses red. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Guys?" Emma squeaks. "Um, I hate to interrupt your moment, but…"

Jade giggles. "Sorry, Emma. What is it?"

Em holds up a hand, and shakes it, making something jingle. "Look what I got."

The horse-headed keys.

I grin. "Damn, kid, you sure are getting good at this."

She grins back. "I got a great teacher."

* * *

Magdalena calls me in the middle of the night and gives me another job to rub. Another theft from another hospital. This time I don't get caught.

If Brave Bow really is watching me, he would be ashamed.

I try to feel sorry. But the Jabberwock won't let me.

No. That's a lie. There's no "not letting me" involved.

I _am_ the Jabberwock.

_O Great Spirit, hear our song  
Help us keep the ancient ways  
Keep the sacred fire strong  
Walk in balance all our days_

_Seasons go and seasons come_  
_Steady as the beating drum_

* * *

Author's Notes:

I feel like this chapter is once again a bit filler-y. I'm really sorry. I was originally going to end the chapter differently but this plot just insists on taking its sweet time. But hopefully what this chapter lacks in plot movement it makes up in sugary adorableness? XD

Um I don't have much to say about this chapter so instead I'll just include some random facts about the characters. You know, the kind of thing I know in the back of my head but have never really needed to include in the story proper, but maybe you'll find them interesting? Or maybe not. XD So let's see. The main cast, from tallest to shortest: Evelyn (about 5'11), Roy (about 5'10), Heather (about 5'7), Jade (about 5'4), Magdalena (about 5'0), Emma (about 4'10). The Siren girls's full names are: Emmeline Charlotte Dalt, Evelyn Jeanne McAllister, Heather Irina Golovahka, and Magdalena Gabriela Alvario. Heather is 18 (how has _that_ never come up? Also Magdalena is 20.) and can bake like nobody's business. Emma has perfect pitch and her birthday is February 20. Evelyn's birthday is July something. (I don't have set birthdays for Mag or Heather so if anyone wants to come up with them feel free.) XD Jade's favorite movie is _Titanic_ (which Roy secretly enjoys but would never admit to) and Roy's is _8 Mile-_ he's a big Eminem fan. Jade is a vegetarian (and actually so are Jinx and Wally, which I don't think I've ever mentioned in my Flinx stories. Really I just have a tendency to avoid showing most characters eating meat, even if I know they aren't vegetarians, because I'm a vegetarian and meat grosses me out. XD). Um that's all I'm coming up with for now. That was fun. XD

Also, regarding the word Roy was going to call Magdalena: normally, I would not censor the characters like that, but this particular word just could not be printed in a T-rated fic. (At least not in the States. You could probably get away with it in Britian.) I don't know if anyone figured out what it was but um… Yeah. XD Oh and the newspaper article is the same one from the end of _Hope on a String_. I believe what I said about it then was that the decision being made by the Titans when they found it would come back to haunt Roy and the Siren girls. Well here it comes.

Title and lyrics from "Steady As The Beating Drum" from _Pocahontas_. Yes, I did just use a Disney song in a sex-drugs-swearing-and-violence heavy neo-noir-western. Don't make it weird. XD


	16. A Moment Like This

A Moment Like This

_Jade_

"I think we should go tonight."

"Tonight? After Emma's gig?"

Despite the fact that Roy, Emma, and I are the only ones in the saloon, Roy and I are talking in hushed whispers, just loud enough to hear each other under the sound of Emma practicing the piano. My hand is resting on top of the table, and Roy is absentmindedly playing with my fingers.

"Why not?" he says. "Em and I have the night off. And Heather and Evelyn'll be here so it's not like anything can be going down tonight."

"Unless they're going afterwards too," I point out. "It's too big a risk."

"But we have to go sometime," he protests. I bite my lip. I can't argue with that.

I touch the pendant around my neck. It's beautiful, but more importantly than that, it came from him. The Navajo pattern engraved around the edges reminds me of him every time I see it. It's something from his adoptive culture, something that's a part of him. And the jade he must have picked because, well, it's my name. When I look at the necklace, I think of him. But when he sees it, I guess he thinks of me. I think there's something poetic about that.

He reaches out and brushes his fingertips against my cheek. "We'll be okay," he says. It sends shivers down my spine. There's something poetic about that too.

"Maybe we should tell them," I suggest. "Maybe it'd be easier if they were on our side."  
Roy winces. "I dunno. Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"Evelyn's a good girl," I say.

"It's not Evelyn I'm worried about."  
"I know. But they are dating," I remind him. "And Evelyn's a friend. If she trusts Heather, then I trust her judgment."

"Would it even be worth it?" he asks. "I mean, even if they don't rat on us, how do we know they'd want to help? I'm sure they got reasons for doing this."

"True," I admit. I guess that's the problem with villains. With heroes, you can count on the fact that everyone's working towards the greater good, but villains, we've all got agendas.

The front door opens and Haylee walks in, carrying a stack of newspapers. She's letting us in before hours again, under the pretense that Emma just needed to practice. I worry that we should not be involving a civilian like this. But we need a safe place to work.

"Have you guys seen this?" she asks, shutting the door with her foot.

"Seen what?" Roy asks. Haylee holds up the front page._ Jabberwock Update: He's Not Alone_.

"Shit," Roy murmurs. Emma's jaw drops. Thankfully, Haylee doesn't know why.

"Pretty messed up, right?" she says. "The article says this guy was behind that train that blew up a while back."

"_Shit_."

"And really, who calls themselves Jabberwock?" she adds, with a laugh. "He does know it's a parody of bad poetry, right?"

I snicker. "I heard it's supposed to be a parody of bad villain names," I say. Roy gives me a light kick under the table. I kick him back and it turns into footsie.

Haylee laughs as she sets the papers on the counter. "Well, I gotta start on the dishes. You guys want a copy?"

"Sure, thank you," I say. She leaves the paper on are table before slipping into the kitchen.

Roy reads over the article. "Fuck."

"That bad?"

He exhales heavily. "'In addition to the aforementioned connection with the bombed train,'" he reads, "'police officials believe he is connected to dozens of other recent crimes in the Santa Fe area. He does not appear to be working alone; one of the few photographs of the criminal that detectives have been able to recover show him with an unidentified brunette of about eleven, and a teenaged female believed to be Mercury Lace."

"They identified Heather?" I ask.

"Eleven?" Emma exclaims. Roy glares at her.

"Really, Em? That's what you're taking from this?"  
She crosses her arms. "Hey, don't look at me, you're the one who got us caught."

He looks at the floor, anger gone. "Yeah, well… I'm really sorry about that."

"It's okay," Emma says.

"We all make mistakes," I tell him, squeezing his hand. He smiles at me, just a little. His smile really is beautiful. I shouldn't be thinking about that right now, but I am.

Emma fidgets in her seat. "I have to practice." She cracks her fingers before starting her song again.

Emma is playing "Moonlight Sonata". It's fitting, because there is something about the sound of piano that has always reminded me of nighttime. There is a lightness to the instrument, a shimmering. Her fingers glide swiftly across the keys and the notes wink like starlight. "Moonlight Sonata" has a darkness to it, but then, I guess night has a darkness to it too.

"If the police are onto us," I say, "we don't have a lot of time, do we?"

Roy interlaces his fingers with mine. His hands are warm. "Tonight."

"Tonight," I say, as Emma plays the night sky.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, Emma freaks out about her outfit not being "concert appropriate", so she and I go back to the apartment to find her something. She sits on my bed as I go through the clothes in my closet.

"Well, how do you want to look?" I ask, sifting through my dresses.

Emma shrugs. "I dunno. It's been so long since I've really played. I just wanna feel…" She trails off, not sure how to finish.  
"Special?" I suggest.

"Yeah."

I smile. "I understand." I think it's what all of us want, to feel like we're worth something, like we have a shot at being more than just prostitutes and hitgirls and villains. We all just want a chance.

"You'll definitely need make-up then," I say. Emma's eyes widen.

"Make-up?"  
"Trust me," I say, laughing, "nothing make you feel more special than good hair and make-up."

I hold up one of my sweaters, a deep purple cashmere that I've never had an excuse to wear, with the weather here. It's not too fancy, and it'll fit her life a dress. With tights and the right hair, she'll look professional, which I think is what she's going for.

"I like it," Emma decides. "Thank you."

"No problem."

She clumsily pulls the sweater on as I grab some make-up for her from the bathroom. Again, nothing fancy- she is only thirteen, after all- just a bit of eyeshadow and blush, in rosy shades of pink.

"Jade?" she says, as I'm starting on her cheeks.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I freaked out on you and Roy the other day." Her eyes are fixed on her feet. "You know, when he…"  
"Oh, sweetie, it's okay," I reply. "You were just looking out for me. If anything, I should be thanking you."  
"No," Emma says, looking up at me. She has beautiful eyes, deep brown speckled with amber in the sunlight. "No, I'm the one who should thank you. For everything you've… Eveything you've done for me. For always keeping me safe."

I smile at her. "Anytime."

I met Emma on a job last year, and right away I was attached to her. She's a great kid, intelligent and brave and passionate. She deserves so much better than the life she's been stuck with. I had to grow up fast. I never really got to be thirteen. I can't do much for Emma, to keep her safe and innocent and thirteen-years-old just a little longer, but I do what little I can.

Roy has said to me that I am exceptionally kind. I don't know about "exceptional". But "kind", well, I think he might be right about that.

I hold out a couple of tubes of lip gloss. "Pick one," I say. Emma considers them, then picks a bubblegum pink with glitter.

For once, she'll look her age.

* * *

Maybe ten people are there for Emma's piano concert, which is the busiest I've ever seen the saloon. It's a small crowd, really, but it means the world to Emma.

Roy and I are at a table with Evelyn and Heather. At night, lit by just a few bare bulbs and the moon reflecting off the windows, the wooden room seems almost sepia-tone. Combined with the rustle of voices and Emma- who looks lovely, if I do say so myself- playing "Maple Leaf Rag", I can almost imagine I'm really in the old west.

"Thanks for inviting us," Evelyn says, twirling the straw in her milkshake. "This place is way cute."

"No problem," I answer. "It's like a double date." Evelyn giggles at that.

"So do you guys have the night off?" Roy asks. This is the compromise we've come up with- we'll ask questions, see if we can get any information, make sure our plan is safe, but we won't risk telling them what we're doing.

"Yup," Evelyn chirps. "What about you and Emma?"

"Yeah, we're free tonight," Roy answers. "We worked out our schedule around Em's gig."

"It's sweet that they're letting her play her," Evelyn says. "She's really good."

"You guys have plans for afterwards?" I ask. I'm picking the breadcrumbs off an onion ring, nervous. I'm no good at this spy thing.

"Nope, just chilling," Evelyn answers.

"Yeah, us too," I say. I don't think it's a very convincing lie.

Roy clears his throat. "So, um, there's something you guys should probably know," he says. The newspaper is in my purse, and he takes it out and sets it on the table.

Heather sees the headline and snatches it up. "You got caught?" she snaps.

"Keep reading."

She does, and then calmly lays the paper back on the table. "You got _me _caught," she says, her voice even and emotionless.

Evelyn's eyes bug out. "What?"

"'Lace,'" Heather reads, picking up where Roy left off earlier "a forensic science specialist known to have worked with high profile villains including Slade and Mr. Freeze, is considered a sort of "rising star" of the villain industry by government and League officials.'"

Evelyn grabs the paper. "Yikes."

Roy grimaces. "Yeah."

She looks at him, eyes ice cold. "Nice going."  
Evelyn purses her lips. "Honey…"  
"Don't 'Honey' me. This could mess up the whole operation."

"It was an accident," Roy says, gruffly. Heather glares at him, and he glares right back.

"Guys, can we deal with it later?" Evelyn pleads. "It's my night off, I just want to have fun!"

Heather raises her eyebrows. "Fine."

"Fine," Roy agrees.

Emma finishes her song and there is scattered applause. Roy raises his hands over his head and cheers. "Go Em!"  
Emma blushes and to stands up to face the crowd, smiling apprehensively. "Um, hi, I, I'm Emma," she says, just barely loud enough to be heard. "I just want to say, um, thanks for coming tonight. And thanks to Haylee and the rest of the staff for giving me this oppurtinity. Um, anyway, this next song… Well, I don't, I don't usually sing or play pop, but, but I wanted to dedicate this to a… To a very special couple. You, um…" She gives Roy and I a tiny smile. "Well you know who are. And I… I think I get it now. Love. Thanks to you two."

She sits back down and starts to play again. It only takes me a second to recognize the song- "A Moment Like This," by Kelly Clarkson.

Emma sings in a quiet, fragile soprano. Her voice trembles as she sings- she's nervous- and there's a childishness to her tone, but she'll probably grow out of that. A few years from now, that voice will soar.

And the dedication…

I smile at Roy, feeling shy all of a sudden. "I guess we have a song now, huh?"  
He smiles back. "You want to dance?"  
"Really?" I say. "I know you don't really like to."

"With you I do," he says. I feel myself blush.

"That's sweet" I say. "Thank you." He offers me his hand and I take it.

Roy wraps me in his arms and I lean my head on his chest as we sway to the music. The scent of cigarettes has never quite come out of his clothes, but it isn't unpleasant. He smells like ashes and coffee and chocolate, dark, but warm and rich and comforting. I feels safe in his arms.

Starlight trickles in through the windows like fairy dust "My first real slow dance," I say.

He places a finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. "I love you," he whispers.

There are tears of joy in my eyes. "I love you too." And he kisses me.

_Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this._

* * *

When we arrive at the stable, it's pitch black, and Roy fumbles with the keys before he manages to open to open the gate. It is midnight, on the dot. The witching hour.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Emma says nervously. "I mean, what if Magdalena gave everyone the night off because _she's_ here."

"Em, the gate was locked," Roy tells her. "How would she have gotten in?"

"Maybe she had another set of keys."

I ruffle her hair, which makes her roll her eyes. "We'll be fine," I say.

Inside the building, the walls are covered in ashes and the air is thick. "What the fuck?" Roy grumbles.

"You mean it wasn't like this the last time you were here?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "There must have been a fire or something."

"Evelyn?" I suggest.

"But why would she burn the place up?" Emma asks.

"Hiding evidence," Roy says. "There must be something going down here."

As I wander through the space, my hand on the wall, I trip over something. "Ow."

Roy rushes over to me and helps me up. "What happened?"

"There's something…" I lean down, and feel the ground to try and make out what walked into.

It's a door.

"Someone's pulled back the floorboards," I say. "There's a doorhere, like to a cellar."

Emma's pulls at the handle but it doesn't open. "It's a dead end," she declares.

Roy pulls the keys out of his pocket. In the darkness, I can barely see his face. "Not quite."

He tries a key. It's a fit.

Beneath the door is a long, winding staircase. Our footsteps sound heavy as we follow it down, and Emma hums "Moonlight Sonata" under her breath. At the bottom is another door, painted blood red.

"And then there was one," Roy says, under his breath. He takes out the last key, and the door opens.

There is a small, dark room, all the walls lined with wooden shelves. On those shelves are a multitude of boxes, hospital supplies, something I think is a microwave and a few things I don't recognize. And there are glass jars filled with white powder. They look like snowglobes, like a child trying to preserve the winter as the weather warms and the snow melts away.

It doesn't snow in Santa Fe.

Roy opens a jar, sniffs it, and then immediately shuts it again and slams it back on the shelf. "My god, is this place what I think it is?"

"Depends." The door slams shut and a flashlight shines in my face. When my eyes adjust, I see the person who's just come in: Heather.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. "Evelyn said-"

Heather ignores me, and shines the light at Roy. "What do you think it is?"

"A meth lab," he answers. There seem to be shadows in his eyes.

She smiles. I'm not sure I've ever seen her smile before. "Well then you'd be right."

_Well I may be dreaming, but 'til I awake,_

_Can we make this dream last forever?_

_And I'll cherish all that love that we share_

_A moment like this_

_Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this_

* * *

Author's Notes:

See guys, I told you the filler was ending. Time to get this ball rolling. I hope that dancing moment was cute and fluffy enough, because the cute and fluffy part of this story is about to grind to a halt. XD

I think one of the biggest things to talk about in this chapter is the music. I'm not sure why I had Emma play "Moonlight Sonata", but I knew I wanted her to at some point in the story. "Maple Leaf Rag" is in there because it's the most stereotypically western-sounding song I could think of. XD As for "A Moment Like This", I think I spent over an hour going through songs on iTunes trying to think of the right song to use there. Basically, what I wanted was something that was effectively "Roy and Jade's song". The problem was that because it was used in-story, it also had to be a song from 2005 or earlier that Emma would logically know and that would sound nice on piano. And my favorite Roy and Jade song is actually "Love Story" by Taylor Swift, which to my dismay I could not use because it's from 2008. I'm not even sure how I decided on "A Moment Like This". I kept coming up with songs that felt too Rob/Star or Flinx but I thought this one was more of a Joy song, I guess?

I realized that Jade and Emma had never had a scene that was just the two of them, which is why I included that here. Jade and Emma have very different personalities, but they have similar histories. And Jade knows what having that sort of history and being a villain can do to a person, and she wants to protect Emma from that, partly because she couldn't protect herself, but mostly because Jade is just wonderful and lovely and cares about people. And that's something that Jade is really just beginning to realize; she doesn't have the highest opinion of herself, but she's starting to see how kind of a person she is. Roy's really helped her see that. They're good for each other like that. She brings out the best in him, and he helps her see her own strengths.

And then there's the drug plot. I won't say anything about it for now, other than "Dear Roy, you got _yourself_ into this mess." XD

Title and lyrics from "A Moment Like This" by Kelly Clarkson. At first I really didn't t want to use that for the title, despite it being used in the chapter, because it doesn't really fit with the scene at the end, but then I couldn't think of anything better so I just went with it. XD


	17. Downfall of Us All

Downfall of Us All

_ Roy_

_You have __**3**__ unread messages._

_ To: Harper, Roy_

_ From: Humphrey, Lauren_

_ Subject: Fuck you_

_ Jabberwock._

_ Jabberwock._

_ JABBERWOCK._

_ I don't fucking believe you. A fucking supervillain? Are you fucking kidding me?_

_ NOW I'm fucking angry._

_ Goddammit, Roy, do you have ANY idea how worried I've been? And now your face (mask or no mask, don't think for a SECOND that I can't damn tell well it's you) is all over the goddamn papers because you've decided to go and become a supervillain and I'm thinking… I'm thinking have I just WASTED my time and energy on someone who doesn't even give a fuck about whether or not I care about him? I'm thinking why do I even bother trying to help you when you obviously don't think anything I have to offer you is worth shit? I really thought you were better than this, Roy. I thought you were one of the ones who was going to get out, get clean, turn your life around. I thought you were a goddamn good hero. I thought you were a good person. And then you run off to become a supervillain._

_ You're a goddamn fucking asshole. You're worse than Paige's father._

_ You wanna know the really messed up thing, Roy? I STILL GODDAMN CARE ABOUT YOU. There's this little nagging voice in the back of my head (it sounds like how I think Paige'll sound in ten years, go fucking figure) that keeps telling me maybe I don't know the whole story. Maybe there's a goddamn reason. Maybe this is a cry for help. Maybe he's really is one of the good ones._

_ Please prove me right, Roy. I don't want to have to tell Paige about this._

_ For fuck's sake, Roy, please don't make me regret the fact that I care about you._

_ Love (And I still mean that, for some goddamn reason),_

_ Lauren_

_ P.S. You do know that's a parody of bad poetry, right?_

_ To: Harper, Roy_

_ CC: Beecher, Karen; Grayson, Richard; Laurel-Lance, Dinah; Queen, Oliver; Tudor, Olivia; West, Wallace _

_ From: Kent, Clark _

_ Subject: Notification of Impending Status Change_

_ Mr. Harper,_

_ It has come to the attention of the Justice League and the Teen Titans that you are currently operating as a supervillain in Santa Fe, New Mexico, U.S.A., under the codename "Jabberwock"._

_ As neither the League nor the Titans have any knowledge of your participation in an undercover mission- and compiled with the fact that, prior to your departure, you blackmailed two members of the Titans (Ms. Olivia Tudor, codename "Jinx", and Mr. Wallace West, codename "Kid Flash")- we have no choice but to assume that you have become a legitimate supervillain. If you do not respond within the week, we will be forced to declare you a public threat and an enemy of the League._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Clark J. Kent_

_ Superman_

_ CEO and founder, Justice League of America_

_ To: Harper, Roy_

_ From: Beecher, Karen_

_ Subject: What you did_

_ I'm assuming you've gotten Superman's invoice by now, so I'm not going to repeat it. And don't you dare get on my case about going to Supes (and don't get on anyone else about it, that was all me). What was I supposed to do? Robin just shows up one day with a newspaper clipping letting me know my MIA team member has gone rogue and I had to do __**something**__. _

_ So I turned you into the JLA. I didn't want to do it, Roy, but you didn't leave me much choice._

_ I know you're after a girl or whatever (we all know. Jinx told us everything. Honestly, Roy, I don't like her either, but blackmail? Really?) but frankly I don't care about your reasoning right now. I care about holding this team together._

_ We can work something out with the League, I'm sure of that, but you're going to have to stop hiding. You have to damn answer this email. And I know you never think about anyone but yourself, so look at it this way: I don't have any stakes in this. You don't get back to me, it's __**your**__ ass on the line._

_ So write back. For your own damn sake._

_ -Karen_

Well I guess I should have seen this coming.

I shut Heather's laptop- silver, just like everything else she owns- and slide it back to her across the kitchen table. Emma had something of a panic attack when we got home, and Jade- sweet, wonderful Jade who I do not deserve- is sitting with her until she falls asleep. This leaves Heather and I in the kitchen, biding time.

"Anything interesting?" Heather asks, her voice flat.

"Nothing you need to know about."

She scoffs. "Just going over the love letters you wrote to Jade before you finally snapped and starting stalking her?"

What the fuck? "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

Heather rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. We all know you were obsessed with her. Why else would come here, _Speedy_?"

Haven't heard that name in a while. I cross my arms. "Maybe I'm a spy."  
An expression that vaguely resembles a smile crosses over her face. "Maybe you are."

The door of the bedroom swings open, and Jade walks out, barefoot and seeming small. She sinks into the chair next to me. "So," she says. The sentence doesn't go anywhere.

"So start talking," I finish.

Heather narrows her eyes. "What do you want to know?"

"What's her plan?"

"I don't know," Heather replies, coolly. "I'm hired help, just like the rest of you. I know my _part_ of the plan."

"Then what's that?" Jade asks, timidly. "Are you a drug dealer?"

"More like a supplier," Heather says.

"And Magdalena's your dealer?" I ask.

Heather raises an eyebrow slightly, like she's mocking me. "Something like that."

I slam my fist on the table. "Either she's a drug dealer or she isn't," I snap. "There's no 'something like that' about it!"

Jade places a hand on my shoulder. "Roy-"

"I'm fine," I say, glaring at Heather. "I just want some damn answers."

"You get supplies, I cook meth, I give it to her," Heather says, monotone. "That's all I know about it."

"And that's it?" I ask, through gritted teeth. "That's your whole job?"  
Heather gives me a look I can't place. "Nowadays," she says, without a trace of emotion, "you have to be a scientist if you want to be a killer."

Jade tilts her head. "That's from _Lolita_?"  
Heather smiles again. Her smile is just as fake as Magdalena's, but where Magdalena smiles with her teeth, Heather just smiles without her eyes. "I'm surprised you know that." She's fucking patronizing her, the damn bitch."

Jade looks at the floor. "I've read it twice.

"Don't be surprised," I say. "Jade is damn smart and you better stop talking down to her."

Jade presses a hand to her mouth. "You're killing them aren't you," she asks, in a whisper. "My clients. I send them to you, and you and Evelyn kill them."

Heather is still smiling. "Ding-ding-ding," she says. "We have a winner."  
That fucking does it. I bang the table again. "This isn't a game!" I shout. "Stop fucking-"

"I swear, that's all I know," Heather says sharply, glaring at me with narrowed eyes. "Can I go now, or are you planning to yell at me all night?"

I glance at Jade, who shrugs. The motion makes her seem hunched over, fragile and scared. "Fine," I say.

Heather starts for the door, but glances over her shoulder as she reaches it. "Why do want to know this, anyway?"

"I'm undercover for the Titans, remember?" I snap.  
Heather chuckles darkly. "And I'm Anastasia Romanov."

"You're not going to tell Magdalena we're…" Jade begins. She's doing her best to sound calm, but she's gripping my hand so tight I expect her fingernails'll leave marks. "Spying on her, are you?"

"I don't know," Heather replies. She smiles. "What's in it for me?"  
"Please, Heather," I say, "just do us a solid." I hate pleading with her, but I'm not letting Em and Jade get in trouble with Magdalena.

"Fine," Heather says. "If you do me one."  
"What?"  
Her eyes are cold. "Don't tell Evelyn."  
She leaves.

Jade touches my shoulder. "Are you okay? You got pretty riled up there."

"We're working for a drug dealer!" I exclaim. "Of course I'm fucking riled up, I'm-" She rests a hand on my cheek and my anger just melts away.

"Jade, I can't be involved in this," I whisper. "I'm not… I just got off cigarettes. I can barely stay clean."

"Yes you can," Jade says, running her fingers through my hair and across my face. "You're stronger than that. And I'm here to help you, whenever you need me."

"I…" Can barely think how to respond to that. God, she's so wonderful. I have done nothing to deserve her. I kiss her, as sweet as I can. "I love you."

She smiles. "I love you too."

Her face falls, suddenly. "I feel like it's my fault," she says quietly. "She's killing them. I set them up to be killed. I'm an accomplice to murder."

I wrap her in my arms, and her breath seems heavy against my chest. "You didn't know," I say.

"I should have realized." She looks about ready to cry.

I kiss her again. If I could just keep her safe, make her happy… God, she deserves so much better than this life.

"So, since Emma's in our room, do you want to watch a movie or something?" Jade asks, her forehead lingering against mine even after we break the kiss.

"Yeah, sounds…" Wait. "Our room?"  
She blushes. "Well, it is, isn't it?"

I shrug. "I guess I think of it as yours."

"We both live here," she says, taking hold of my hand and intertwining her fingers with mine. "And we're in this together. I'd say it's ours."

"Ours," I repeat. I like the sound of that.

* * *

Jade and I fall asleep on the couch, and I wake up to next morning with the TV still going and her head resting on my chest. My phone is beeping like crazy. Maybe I shouldn't answer it. I half expect it to be Superman. Would he even have my number? Probably. It must be in the databases or something. I roll over, being careful not to disturb Jade, who has slept through the noise. I check the caller ID. Magdalena.

Huh. I don't know if that's better or worse.

I hit the accept call button. "What?".

"My place," she barks. "Now. Come alone."

I glance at the clock, "It's eight in the-"

"_Now_."  
Ugh. "Can I least get dressed first?" I grumble. "I'm sure you don't expect me to come in my boxers…  
"Just get her as soon as you can," she says. She hangs up.

So worse, then?

* * *

Magdalena is sitting on her couch in a black dress, legs crossed and arms folded across her chest. She smiles at me as I enter.

"Where are my keys, Roy?" she asks, sweetly.

Fuck.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

Well that's a shit plan, isn't it?  
Magdalena pats the spot next to her on the couch. "Sit."

I sit down, but in a chair across my here." She raises her eyebrows and gestures for me to come closer. Damn it, I don't have a choice in this, do I?

I sit next to her.

"Roy," she begins, still talking in that sugary, kindergarten-teacher voice. "Please don't lie to me."  
"I'm not," I lie.

"Roy, listen," she says. She lays her arm across the back of the couch, so that her hand ends up behind my head. "I like you. You're good at this. You're _brilliant_ at this." Her black-tipped fingernails brush up against my neck. It gives me goosebumps.

What's that supposed to-

Oh.

Oh that fucking bitch.

I cross my arms, trying to look like I'm not losing my cool. "This is a onetime deal," I tell her. "I'm a hero."

Except I'm not, am I?

She puts her hand on my knee. "Are you, really?" she asks. Some days I think she's a fucking telepath and she's just not telling us. "Can you really go back?"

No. I can't. I know that. I won't give her the satisfaction of hearing me say it. But I do know it.

"We could be great together, Roy," she whispers, her lips just barely touching my ear. "We could take over the world together. Wouldn't you like that?"

She walks her fingers up my leg, and my jeans are uncomfortably tight.

"I have a girlfriend," I say.

She makes a noise that could almost be mistaken for laughter. "Jade. Right. I forgot you two think it's 'true love'."

"It is."  
Magdalena swings a leg over me, straddling me, her arms around my neck and her chest pushed up against mine. She's not wearing a bra. "I knew Jade believed in fairytales like that, but you… I thought you were better than that." She trails a hand down my chest and back between my legs. "See? I'm still not sure you believe it."

She is maybe five feet tall, and I push her off me easily. "Don't you dare fucking try to seduce me," I threaten.

An empty threat and she knows it. "Or what?"

"Or I'll sue you for sexual harassment," I grumble.

She laughs. "Come on now, we both know you can't do that."

I'm about ready to throw something. "What do you want, Magdalena?" I ask. "Why'd you call me here?"  
"To make you a deal," she says. "I know you're up to something, Roy. And if you stop whatever it is, I'll give you a promotion. Instead of working _for_ me, I'll let you work _with_ me. We'll be partners. Bonnie and Clyde."

God, what a… "I'm not 'up' to anything." Fuck, I don't even know why I keep lying about this. She knows. I know she knows. "And even if I was… What if I refuse?"  
She chuckles. "But why would you do that?"

I look at the door, but she grabs hold of my chin and turns my face towards hers. For such a tiny girl, her hands are remarkably strong. Like talons on a bird of prey. "You haven't exactly put up a fight about stealing things for me," she says.

She brings her lips back to my ear. "Don't try to tell me it doesn't give you a thrill."

I try to think of an argument.

I don't have one.

I want to hit her, but that would be proving her point. "Please let me leave," I say, gritting my teeth.

Magdalena leans her chin on my shoulder. "Now, Roy…"

I thrust her off of me and stand up. "Fuck off!" I exclaim. "I'm fucking serious, if you touch me again-"

I suddenly notice that she still has the faint bruise of a black eye from the last time she and I came into physical contact, and I cannot finish my sentence.

She repositions herself, carefully resuming the pose of crossed arms and legs, the looks at me with her teeth in her eyes. "Okay, be that way. But just remember that I gave you a choice."  
I turn away from her. I can't look at her any longer "I don't want your choices."

"I will figure out what you're up to," she calls out to me, as I reach the door. "And then you'll be sorry."

I slam the door as I leave. It echos.

* * *

Jade and Emma are both at the kitchen table- Jade with a book, Em fussing with her revolver- as I enter the apartment. "She knows," I say.

Jade drops her book.

"What?"  
"She knows we took the keys," I say. "She's onto us."  
Emma's eyes go wide. "What did she do?"

"She…" Oh, God. "She tried to seduce me."

Jade's mouth falls open. "What?" she asks again.

"She… I…" I collapse into an empty chair. "She asked me to join her. Like, as her partner. Said she was giving me a choice."

Jade clasps a hand over her mouth. "What did you…"

"I came damn near close to giving her another black eye," I say, answering her question before she can finish it. She looks relieved, which just makes me feel even more like shit than I already do.

"Please, Jade don't make that face at me. I swear I would never even consider cheating on you or-"

"What?" Jade asks, shocked. "I wasn't thinking that at all, I… Roy, I know you would never cheat on me. I was just happy nothing bad happened to you."

Oh.

God, most of the time nobody has any faith in me at all. Karen thinks I'm a selfish jerk and Garth once called me a womanizer. Ollie tiptoes around me like he expects me to blow up at the smallest thing and always seems to doubt that I'm sober. But Jade.

Jade has faith in me.

I'm not used to that feeling.

It's a nice one.

There's a lock of hair in her eyes, and I reach out and brush it away. "I'm fine," I say. "Thank you." She smiles.

"Oh, yeah, I brought you guys coffee," I say, passing out the cups I've left on the counter. This is my third cup so far today- since I've quit smoking, I've been drinking it around the clock. Some nights I don't sleep and some mornings I can't stop shaking, but it keeps me off nicotine. "Well, not coffee, actually. Chai for you, Jade. And hot chocolate for you, Em, don't want you getting hooked on caffeine."

Emma rolls her eyes at that. "I'm not a little kid," she grumbles.  
"I know," I say. "Doesn't mean I can't look out for."

Em makes a face, but she takes the hot chocolate anyway. Kid never can resist food.

"So what are we gonna do?" she asks.

"I filled her in about the… You know," Jade tells me. She seems nervous. They both do. I guess I need to be the strong one, then.

"We could sneak the keys back," I say. "Make her think she's imagining it."

Jade covers her mouth to hide a giggle. "You mean gaslight her?"

Damn. "'Gaslight' is such an ugly word…" I grumble. Accurate, though, whatever _that_ says about me. First blackmail, now torture.

"You know what I don't get?" Emma asks, quietly. "Why those guys? Why does she want to kill _them_?"

"It is kind of weird," I agree. "Why would a drug dealer need to assassinate a bunch of…"

Unless…

"Fuck."

"What's wrong?" Jade asks,.

"The Tupperware container," I say. My hands are shaking, from the caffeine or from fear I'm not sure. "And the tea leaves. Fuck, it all makes sense now, she's… Fuck. Fuck, no, how didn't I realize this before, fucking-"

"Roy," Jade interjects, softly, resting her hand on mine. It doesn't stop the jitters. "What is it?"  
"They're dealers," I say. "They're dealers who repurpose packaging in order to sell on the black market. She's offing other dealers."

Jade's eyebrows are furrowed. "Why would she do that?"

"I don't know, I…" Wait. Wait, yes I do. "To take their business. She's killing her competition so she can have a monopoly on drug trade in Santa Fe.

"Oh, my God," Jade gasps. Emma is staring at me, wide-eyed and biting down on one of her knuckles.

Fuck. "No, she's not stopping at Santa Fe," I realize. "She told me we could '_rule the world together_'. Once she gets the city she'll just keep expanding. She could control drug trade in the whole damn country by next year."

"That's insane," Jade whispers.

"No, it's _genius_," I say. "If she's the only drug supplier, then addicts won't have a choice but to go to her. She could raise prices, make the drugs more addictive…" God, she could…

_**Fuck**_.

"She could mix the drugs, sell them _anything she wanted_," I realize. "Hypnotics, super-serums, she could create a fucking _army_ of brainwashed, super-powered drug addicts to do _whatever_ she wants."

"She wasn't kidding," I say. I actually start _laughing_. Like a fucking sociopath. "She's trying to take over the fucking world."

Emma starts crying. It's probably the appropriate response.

Jade picks up her book- _Lolita_. "No man can bring about the perfect murder." she reads, in a whisper. "Chance, however, can do it."

She puts the book down again.

I drain my coffee in one go. I'll be up all night anyway.

_Don't forget yourselves,_

_we made up our minds._

_And we signed 3, 4, 5_

_on that dotted line._

_You won't find me in the same spot, believe me,_

_I could never stop._

_My life's turned upside down._

_Meet me out past the train tracks,_

_I'm leaving and not coming back._

_You're right and I was wrong._

_This town will be the downfall of us all._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay, guys! I'm right in the middle of mid-term period and it's eating up my time. :/

And that, everyone, is Magdalena's plan. She's really up to be quite the villain. I didn't really expect for her to be quite so delightfully psychopathic when I started the story. XD

So I guess the plot elements in this chapter are pretty straightforward. There are also some rather tender moments between Roy and Jade, which is kind of interesting to me, since I didn't go into those chapter with those moments planned. And Roy not having an argument when Magdalena notes that he gets a thrill out of crime is pretty significant. But overall I don't have a whole lot to say here. (As for Heather, well, I'll get to Heather.) So let's talk about literature! XD

The obvious literary reference in this story (aside from the title reference, which I just picked because it's about drugs and it sounded kind of Western, there's not much more to it than that) is _Alice in Wonderland_. I think it ties into the Western "no-man's land" setting a bit- these characters are, in many ways, lost. Roy in particular has gone down the rabbit hole and emerged in a strange world and now he's kind of stuck there. _Alice in Wonderland_ is also course very whimsical, which I think fits the larger setting of the _Teen Titans_-verse, so it works on that level too. And _Alice in Wonderland_ is often associated with drugs- the song "White Rabbit" uses the novel as an allegory for drugs, and there are drugs in the text. So there's also that? XD

Fairytales have popped up quite a bit too, which ties into the romance aspect, but in that respect, I actually think _Romeo and Juliet_ (which I'm not sure I've referenced by name, but it's always in the back of my mind) is the more important reference- it is a hero/villain romance. I've played with the Romeo and Juliet thing with Flinx before, but Wally and Jinx had this "forbidden love" thing easy compared to Roy and Jade. XD (Though, really, I think the two couples have a lot of parallels, which is I'll probably play with in the future at some point.) Oh and their initials are R+J. XD

Those are probably the most important literary references, but a few more minor ones: Jade has mentioned _A Little Princess_, and I think she has some similarities to the protagonist of that book. Somewhere in my notes on this story, amidst a list of movies and TV shows that have influenced the story, I compare Emma to Hitgirl from _Kick-Ass_ (it's a graphic novel, so it counts. XD But maybe I'll talk non-noir/western movies another time?). And regarding _Lolita_: Um, I just love _Lolita_. XD I'm really not trying to get at anything to do with the pedophilia aspect of that book, just at fact that _Lolita _is also a fascinating look into the mind of a sociopath. And there's definitely a little bit of sociopathy amongst these characters.

Also, I get a kick out of portraying the JLA as this elaborate business association. XD (For those of you who haven't read my Flinx stuff, Olivia is Jinx's legal name but she never uses it. But Superman would have to use it in his super formal business email, I guess? XD) And I just want to point out that every time someone comments on Roy's codename, they use the _exact same_ _line_ (the grammatically appropriate form of "You/he do/does know that's a parody of bad poetry, right?") It even extends to Jinx, who said it in _Hope on a String_. For some reason I find this hilarious. XD

Title and lyrics from "Downfall of Us All" by A Day to Remember.


	18. Drink Me

Drink Me

_ Jade_

I first read _Alice in Wonderland_ when I was eight years old. I'd seen the movie before, and it had always been my favorite, which was why I picked it out. It was the first chapter book I read on my own and I remember being so proud of myself. It was all I talked about for days. Wendy saw how much I liked it and bought me a stuffed bunny. She said he was the real white rabbit, and that, one day, in the middle of the night, he'd wake me up and take me down the rabbit hole. I'd find Wonderland and be happy and safe and loved. I believed her. Maybe it was silly or immature of me, but eight years old, I believed whole-heartedly in magic.

After Wendy disappeared, I cried for days and tore my copy of _Peter Pan_ to shreds. I wanted to rip the head off that rabbit but I couldn't bring myself to. So I gave it to one of the other girls my age and asked her to do it for me.

"Why do you want me to ruin your bunny?" she asked, smirking. Her name was Trina. She was ten, like I was, but unlike me she was always running her mouth and getting in trouble with the pimps. "We all know you still sleep with it."

I struggled to answer that, but my ten-year-old pride would not let it go without a response. "Because he's not the white rabbit and he's not going to take me to Wonderland."

Trina laughed at me. "You're just now figuring that out?

"Just do it," I demanded. She shrugged.

"Okay."

She gripped onto his ears and I couldn't watch. I had to close my eyes, and when I opened them again, she had torn his head off and dropped him in the dirt, threads and stuffing drifting like snowflakes in the air.

I cried again. And then I picked him up and went to wash him off in the shower. I got one of the older girls to help me sew him back together, and the bright pink thread she used looked like a scar across his throat.

The year after that, one of the pimps raped me. I had been raped before, but something in me snapped that day. The same something, I guess, that made me cut off all my hair. It was just too much. It hurt too much. I just needed the hurt to stop.

I don't remember packing a bag and I don't remember how I got out the door unnoticed, but I guess I must have. What I do remember is, in the middle of the night, as I started for the door of our building, I held my bunny in my hands and, sobbing hysterically the whole time, I left him at the bedside of a girl about eight.

"You better do your job this time," I told him, through my tears, although I knew he could not really hear me. The truth, I thought, was that I was already down the rabbit hole, and I was too lost to find my way back. I left the brothel, wondering if anyone could ever help me back to the real world.

* * *

The door of the saloon is unlocked, and Roy throws it open with so much force it cracks the wood.

Haylee is sitting at the bar with a magazine, and she looks up at the sudden noise. "Is something wrong?"  
"Nothing," Roy answers harshly. "Eveything's fine." He nods at Emma, and she dumps the contents of violin case on a table. We have gathered every piece of evidence and file we could find before coming here, and I guess we're making a plan.

The sun has started to set. The light streams in through the windows, painting the room in grey-tinted pinks and browns, almost sepia-tone. It is a warm night, and yet I am unable to stop trembling.

Roy closes the curtains and hands me a stack of papers- photographs and details on each of my clients. "Let's sort through these. See if we can figure out who these guys are, where they deal…" He looks at Emma again. "Think you can play watch dog?"

Emma nods and sits down at the piano. She lays her pistol on the top and then opens the cover, dusting the keys off with her bare elbow before she begins to play. _Swan Lake_.

I start going through the papers, making a pile for each client. Seeing their faces makes me cringe. One in particular- the one I stole the tea from- makes me sick to stomach. called him the Doormouse, because he had mousiness about him and because he always had tea around. He was nice to me. Drug dealer or not, he didn't deserve to die.

God, how many people have I gotten killed?

I figured she was torturing them, hurting them somehow, but I didn't think…

I didn't think I was leading them to their deaths.

God, how did I not know? Why didn't I do anything? Why did I just go along with this?

What the hell is wrong with me?

Haylee stands up. "Is that a gun? You brought a _gun_ into the bar? I… If my boss finds out… What the hell is… Who _are_ you people?"

"Haylee, do me a favor?" Roy interrupts.

She crosses her arms. "Not unless you tell me what the hell going on."  
Roy chuckles darkly. He is thinking the same thing I am: if only any of us had been smart enough to make that demand.

"You know how Speedy's on leave from the Titans?" he asks. She raises an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh."

"And you know Jabberwock?"

Her eyes go wide, as she pieces it together. "Omigod. You mean-"

"Jabberwock, Cheshire," Roy says, pointing to himself and then me. "Oh, and Emma's my sidekick."

"Thanks for remembering, you jerk," Emma quips.

Haylee presses a hand against her forehead. "I'm harboring supervillains."

"It's not that bad," Roy says, a weak attempt at an explanation. "We're trying to pull an inside job."  
"So you're not a villain?" she asks. "You're just a spy?"

"I…" Roy exhales sharply. "Sort of. It's a long story. I… Please. We're not going to pull anything here. We just need a safe base. And we need help."  
Haylee looks at him, hard and for a long time. "What's the favor?" she asks, finally.

Roy digs something out of the pocket of his jeans- the horse-head keys. He tosses them to her. "Hang onto these for me."

She stares at them, and I realize, for the first time, how much they look like chess pieces, before slipping them into her apron and returning to her magazine in silence.

Roy looks at me. "You're shivering," he notices.

"I'm…" I try to say I'm fine, but I have lost all strength to be brave. I sit down and bury my face in my hands and start to cry.

Roy takes off his leather jacket and drapes it around my shoulder. He is left in just a tank top, and he is shivering too.

He sits down next to me, rapidly tapping his fingers and foot, a metronome gone mad as Emma barely keeps up on piano. "So who do we got?"  
"I don't know where to start…" I murmur. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand but it doesn't stop the tears. "I, um, I had nicknames for most of them. This one was the Doormouse. He had the, the tea with the wrong packaging? He owned a café, upscale, but mostly students, I think."

"His sold to rich kids, then" Roy says. "I've seen stuff like that before."

"And this one's the Zebra," I say, pointing to another photo. "He had a zebra print suit. Ran a nightclub."  
Roy raises his eyebrows. "And that would be the kinda guy I used to buy from."

"That's Captain Hook," I continue. I don't even know how I came up with that one. It's probably childish of me to think of these stupid nicknames anyway. "Gruff. Apartment full of crap."

"Street dealer," Roy states.

"And that," I say, pointing at the last photo, "that's the Businessman. He…"

"Upper class market." Roy's eyes are dark. "And he tried to rape you."

I bite my lip. "It wasn't… I mean…" He did, didn't he?

Roy wraps his arms around me. "If he's not already dead, I'll kill him."  
"I don't want you killing anyone," I whisper.

"You know what I mean."

I am too weak to find words.

The piano comes to a halt. "Roy, we got company," Emma says, pointing at the window- two shadowy figures are moving behind the curtains. She reaches for her gun. "Should I-?"

"Yes."

Emma cocks her gun and aims for the door.

It opens, and the last of the daylight pours in all at once. Heather walks in, looking like a ghost in the glare- white skin, white hair, white dress, features obscured.

"Fuck are you doing here?"Roy asks. When Evelyn enters behind her, he adds "I thought you didn't want her to-"

"I said I didn't want _you_ to tell her," Heather snaps. "And are you really planning to have her shoot me? Do you want that on her conscience?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," Emma says. Her eyes are dark, the force of a hurricane. He's taught her well. "I once stabbed my step-father with a carving knife."

"And yet, just last night, you could barely hold a conversation," Heather says. Emma glares at her and pushes the gun toward she face.

"We all got our off days."

"At ease, soldier," Roy says, through gritted teeth. Emma gapes at him.

"Are you kidding me, why-"

"_At ease_."

Reluctantly, Emma puts the gun down and resumes playing.

"Jade okay?" Evelyn asks, sounding nervous.

"She's fine," Roy answers, briskly. He turns to Heather. "And I'm back to 'what are you doing here'?"

"I'm here to issue you a warning," she replies. "She's called Evelyn and I in for midnight tonight. Something's going down and I think it's worth being concerned about."

"Roy, who are these people?" Haylee asks, angry. "I thought you said nothing was going to happen here." Roy and Heather both ignore her. They are ignoring all of us, really, having a private stand-off that we are just bearing witness to.

"And why are you telling me?" Roy asks. "It's not like you're on our side."

Heather tilts her head, a tight smile on her face, but says nothing.

"Alright, fine," Roy scoffs. "'Something's going down,' real nice tip there. What do you want me to do about it?"  
"It's not about what _I _want," she says, "It's about what _you_ want."

He rises. "What _I_ want," he says, the temper rising in his face and voice, a crescendo, "is to protect Jade and Emma." He is nearly shouting by the end.

Heather looks at him, still smiling. Some people's smiles warm hearts but I think hers could freeze them over. "And to do that, don't you have to win?"  
He sits back down. Diminuendo.

"Haylee, coffee, black," he barks. She looks at him incredulously.

"Are you serious-"

"_Haylee_!"

She makes a face but doesn't say anything, and slips behind the bar to start a cup of coffee.

Evelyn sits down next to me. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, in a whisper beneath Roy and Heather's conversation.

"I'm fine," I lie.

"So what do you know?" Heather asks.

"She's trying to take over the world," Roy answers, point blank. "She's got like four drug markets cornered and once she gets enough of the trade under her control she'll probably start spiking the drugs, build herself an army."

"Ambitious," Heather replies.

"I don't know," Roy replies. "I can't believe no one's ever tried it before." rubs his eyes. The circles beneath them are dark. He hasn't been sleeping much. "What are you suggesting I do about this thing tonight?"

Heather shrugs. "Try to stop it?"  
He doesn't respond. She leans against the wall, pulls back the curtain and stares out the window. Haylee finishes the coffee and leaves the mug on the table, before perching on top of the bar. Roy flicks at the contents of the ashtray and then picks up the coffee instead.

The piano echoes across the room, but otherwise, it is silent.

I'm still crying. I can't seem to hold myself together. Pathetic. I am truly pathetic.

"Shit," Heather says, under her breath.

"What is it?" Evelyn asks.

The door swings open.

"So is _this_ where you all congregate?"

I look up. Magdalena, dressed all in black, save for a red pendant that falls just to her heart.

Roy jumps to his feet. "You bitch," he snaps, at Heather. "Did you lead her here?"

"You really think I'd do that?" Heather snaps. "She must have followed us here."

Roy doesn't say anything. I guess he's deciding to believe her for now. I guess I believe her too. I don't know. I don't know what to make of any of this.

Truth is, I'm just completely terrified. Maybe that's why I can't stop crying.

He turns to Magdalena. "What the fuck do you want?"

Magdalena smiles, a strangely furious, almost deranged expression. "Now now, is that anyway to greet a visitor?"

"No, you're right," Roy snaps. "Emma, give her a soldier's welcome, why don't you?

Emma raises her gun with her right hand, continuing to play the piano with her left. She does not even look up.

Magdalena seems different, somehow. Her hair is disheveled and her make-up is running. "You're bluffing," she says, to Roy rather than Emma. She crosses her arms but she doesn't sound confident of it.

"You wanna test that theory?" Emma asks, calmly, as she continues to play.

Magdalena doesn't respond to her, instead continuing to talk to Roy. "Are you plotting against me?" she asks. "Is that it?" She takes every breath through her teeth. "Are you a plant? Did the Titans send you?"  
"Came here on my own," Roy says. He stares her down, and unlike Heather, she blinks.

"Did you?" she asks. "Well, who are you here with now?"

"We know what you're up to, Magdalena," Roy says, holding his ground. "We know about the drug trade and about trying to take over the world. And we're not going to let you get away with it."

Magdalena laughs, hysterically. "Well look at the little superhero, all grown up and ready for the big leaugues," she says. "So you know my plan. Well, good for you. Really, I commend you." She claps, her fingertips against her palm. "Bravo, job well done. But do you honestly think any of them can help you stop me? Look around you. Look at your damn 'soldiers'." She points at Heather, with fingernails painted red and filed sharp. "She's a villain through and through. Whatever noble cause you've got, she's not going to buy it. And that one?" Evelyn. "That one's just dumb muscle."

She jabs her thumb at Emma, who stops playing. "As for the kid, I don't which would be worse: if she's too scared to shoot me or if you really have _corrupted_ her so far that she's capable of that. And _her_?"  
Me. I expect her to say something to him, like she did about everyone else, but she doesn't. She walks forward, slowly, heels clicking with each step. When she reaches the table, she kneels down until she is inches from my face, and speaks directly to me.

"Do you have any idea why I hired you, Jade?"  
I try to speak but I can't. I shake my head, trembling, and grab onto Roy's hand, clutching it for dear life.

Magdalena laughs. "_That's_ why. Look at you, cowering and sobbing like a little bitch, waiting for your big strong man to save you. He's good at that, isn't he? Done a lot for you. Rescued you from a life of prostitution and crime. Like one of your fairytales. And what have you done for him? Gotten him onto the police's most wanted list and nearly gotten him killed, that's what. You must be a damn good lay, because he certainly didn't come all this way for _that_."

Roy slams a fist on the table. "You better back off her, or I'll-"

Magdalena holds up a finger. "Ah-ah-ah. I wasn't finished."

"You're the sort of girl men think they need to protect," she tells me. "And do you know why that is?"

She smiles.

"Because you're weak."

I look at the floor. I have nothing to say to that. She's completely right.

"I hired you," she continues, "because I have never once seen you think for yourself."

"She quit, didn't she?" Roy snaps.

"She quit because _you_ wanted her too," she counters. She lays a finger under my chin and lifts my face, forcing me to look her in the eyes. "And did you hear that? You let him speak for you. Doesn't matter if you're following me or him, Jade, you're still following _someone_. You're not the Cheshire Cat. You're a playing card."

Roy stands up violently quick, kicking his chair clear to the other side of the room in the process. Cheap wood, it splinters.

"I said _back the fuck off_."

Magdalena smiles at him, tangled and hair and wild eyes. I think of Medusa. Look at her too long and I might just turn to stone.

"Okay," Magdalena says. "I'll 'back the fuck off"." She takes sauntering steps as speaks, a wolf stalking her prey, landing beside the piano. "Of _her_."

Quicker than any of can react, she snatches Emma's revolver out of her hands and aims it at Evelyn, who cowers against the table, a rabbit with her ears pulled back.

"Fucking bitch, give it back!" Emma shrieks. She claws at Magdalena, who, taller and stronger, holds her back with her free hand, no effort at all.

"Now _you're _bluffing," Roy says, more confident than she was. "You wouldn't kill one of your own henchmen, not when the police and League are already onto us. It'd be a smoking gun."

Magdalena smiles. "Clever boy," she says. "But… You know, there are… One, two, three…" She ticks her head from side to side with each count. "_Seven_ people in this room, Roy. And one of these things…"  
She moves the gun from person to person to…

"…is not like the others."

Oh, no.

Roy rushes towards her, but it's too late.

There's a blast, followed by the discordant noise of all the keys being pressed at once as Emma topples onto the piano.

And Haylee falls to ground, bleeding from the head.

"The stable," Magdalena commands. "Midnight. All four of you." She points the gun at me. "After all, it's only my henchmen I can't kill."

She smiles. "And don't forget my keys, Roy."

She throws the gun onto the piano keys, and she leaves.

The bullet went straight through Haylee's head, leaving bits of her skull scattered across the blood-stained wood. A while ago, Emma broke a milkshake across the floor. The bone, now, glistens in the dim lamp light just like that shattered glass.

Evelyn stares at Haylee, wide-eyed. I put my head on the table and I cry. Roy wraps me in his arms, stronger then I'll ever be.

"Whatever's going down at midnight…" Roy begins. "You think we can stop it?"

Heather walks towards the table. She was closest to Haylee when the shot went off. All white, she is now speckled with blood. Painting the roses red.

She rests a hand on Evelyn's shoulder. "I think you're running out of time," she says. It is not a yes.

Emma sits down at the piano bench, and begins to play "As Time Goes By".

_So you're a fan of Coltrane_  
_I wanna be Kurt Cobain_  
_When the truth gets scary_  
_I'll take my gin and sherry_  
_And some drink me they'll be_  
_Plath and Joplin with verse writing suiciders_  
_Kennedy and Monroe come to see my rock show_  
_I'll be there in the front row_

_I'll take another, drink me, baby_  
_Slowly, I'll disappear_  
_And wear my life like a barbed wire necklace_  
_So let's play truth or dare_

* * *

Author's Notes:

Gosh, I don't know where to start.

Okay, um… Let's start with Magdalena. She is wearing red in this chapter, instead of all black, which is significant for two reasons. First, because she's the Queen of Hearts (something I forgot to mention when I talked about _Alice in Wonderland_ is that every character has a parallel. Roy and Jade are, obviously, the Jabberwock and the Cheshire Cat. Emma is Alice, though I guess she's also sort of the White Rabbit, since she does lead Roy "down the rabbit hole". And Heather and Evelyn are the Mad Hatter and the March Hare, respectively. This is why Heather is the one fulfilling the film noir requirement of wearing hats. XD). The second reason is because her plan is starting to fall apart at the seams and she knows it. So she's disheveled and she's wearing red and her weaknesses are starting to show. She's basically losing it; she's gotten to the point where she's desperate enough to shoot an innocent in the head and it can only go down from here.

So speaking of the shooting, a sidenote on Haylee: Haylee is what TV Tropes would refer to as a "Mauve Shirt"": a character introduced and given a bit of development specifically so that when the villain kills them, it's more poignant than the death of a faceless character. I established Haylee (and, actually, Gayle the waitress from chapter six, who I didn't end up needing. Haylee wound up playing both their roles.) knowing that she would play a small but significant role in the story. I wasn't, at the time, entirely sure what that role would be. But… Yeah, it ended up being this. XD Also, Haylee is named after Hailee Steinfield from _True Grit_ and Kaylee from _Firefly_, so it's a dual western reference. (To compliment that, another minor character, Lauren, is named after Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart, who were noir actors.)

Roy and Heather, as Jade notes, have a bit of a "stand-off" in this chapter. They are quite evenly matched, in a lot of ways. And they both realize that, so when they're playing each other like this, neither of them is sure if they'll win or even exactly what's at stake. And Heather is also a bit of a counterpoint to Magdalena, which is why Magdalena wears black (and now red) and Heather wears white (now stained with red).

And lastly, I need to talk about Jade. In a recent review, muddie said she thought Jade came across as not having flaws. (She actually used the term "Mary Sue", which is a term I don't really like to use, because I don't think it has any real meaning a lot of the time. People sometimes (and muddie, don't take this the wrong way, I'm not saying you meant it like this!) just say it to refer to any character they don't like.) This was a pretty significant critique to me; the characters are always the most important thing to me when I write, and it's very important to me that they seem like real people. And on top of that, I never like to write things that are black and white; everyone has shades of grey. Everyone has flaws. (And again, muddie, please don't take this the wrong way. I'm not even slightly offended or upset. I completely understand where you were coming from and I only bring it up here because I think it's a valid concern.) I thought about this for a while, actually going through past chapters and looking at how I've characterized Jade. And what I think… In my head, I know what Jade's flaws are, and I really hope that that translates into my writing as well. _I_ don't see her as perfect, and if you guys are reading her that way, then I feel like that means I'm not writing her well.  
Basically (and as Magdalena points out in this chapter) Jade is needy, codependent and emotionally unstable. She can barely go a day without crying, and she spends the entire story (and her whole life, really), letting circumstances and other people drag her around. Roy constantly speaks for her and makes decisions for her and _she lets him_. That's the thing. She relies on him for _everything_. She'd be completely lost without him. She has no agency. She's a damsel in distress. The one time she makes any decision on her own is when she quits working for Magdalena, and even then, she would never have done it if Roy hadn't pushed her to (not that she wouldn't have wanted to, but she wouldn't have been strong enough without him.) Granted, she has run away from a few particularly awful situations in her childhood, but those are the exceptions that prove the rule. (And even then, I think it was more like when she cut her hair. She was just having an emotional breakdown.) Most of the time, for most of her life, when bad things happen she just accepts it and doesn't try to make things better. She _hates_ being a villain, and she knows that she's doing terrible things and she feels _awful_ about it, but she never tries to stop it. She just lets herself be puppeteer-ed by everyone around her. And she's also hopelessly romantic, and extremely idealistic and trusting, which aren't inherently bad traits, but they can be problematic for her. She doesn't question other people's motives when she should. (She does, after all, just invite a guy she doesn't know to live with her pretty much out of nowhere.) And on top of all that, Jade is very self-loathing and constantly talks down herself. The moment a couple chapters ago when she recognizes her own strengths was a _huge_ step for her.

As for whether Jade's flaws are obvious on the story… Gosh, I hope they are. I don't know, are they? I guess with a character like Roy, it's easy to look at his behaviour (the violent outbursts, the constant swearing, the whole blackmail thing, etc.) and say "he is a violent, uncaring jackass and that's the point", but maybe it's harder to look at Jade and realize she doesn't have agency, because it relates to what she _doesn't_ do rather than to what she does? I feel like a lot of the time when someone says that a character has no agency, they mean it as an indication that the character is poorly written. Like, I keep thinking of Lana Lang from _Smallville_, who people always seem to think is a bad character because she's a damsel in distress. And when I hear that, I think "Well, yeah, exactly." Lana _is_ a damsel in distress. She can't stand up for herself. That's the _point_. It's a flaw in her personality. In my mind, that's part of what makes her an interesting and realistic character. And my intention is for Jade to be like that too. The reader is supposed to look at Jade and look at her behavior and say "she's a damsel in distress and that that's a problem and that's the point," if that makes sense. (And muddie also mentioned that Roy is constantly talking about how great she is, which, um, that's just Roy. XD He's completely blinded by his love for her. Again, it's kind of the point.)

So I really, really hope that Jade's flaws do come across in my writing. I think that, in a lot of ways, this is really Roy's story. Jade is just sort of a pawn in it (which, again, she _lets herself_ be a pawn. That's her flaw. But like, even though she's narrating this chapter, she doesn't really _do_ much in it, because it's not really her story.). So I do tend to focus on him, but I do try to develop her as well. So I really hope that she reads the way I intended her to and as a multi-dimensional, real person.

Um, I'm sorry these notes were so incredibly long. XD I just really wanted to clarify how I see Jade, because I'm worried she isn't reading the way she's supposed to.

Title and lyrics from "Dink Me" by Anna Nalick. I think that's probably the single most important song for this story. And "As Time Goes By", which Emma plays at the end, is the song from _Casablanca_. It seemed fitting.

Also Happy Halloween! In case I don't get another change to say it. XD I do love Halloween. I'm thinking of maybe doing a Halloween one-shot of some sort (just something short and fun, like my Christmas one-shot last year) but I dunno, so I figured I'd just wish you guys a happy Halloween here. XD Hope you all of lots of fun and get great desserts! (And one the subject of one-shots, muddie, I'm going to have to save your one-shot until after _Trainspotting_ because otherwise it would be too spoiler-y. I'm really sorry for the wait, but I promise I will write it.)


	19. Tune Up Number 3

Tune Up #3

_ Emma_

The bullet was a B-flat. Or at least, as close to the sound of a B-flat as you can get without being an actual music note.

After it went off I fell on the piano. The resulting sound was every note at once, or maybe no note at all. And now I am playing "As Time Goes By", which is probably horrible and inappropriate, and I guess I should be crying instead but I don't have any tears left in me. Just an awful lot of music, crowding my head with noise, with a blood-splatter of notes louder and more chaotic than any gunshot'll ever be. That always seems to be how it is with me.

So play it, Emma. Play "As Time Goes By".

Is that even the line? Been a while since I saw _Casablanca_.

Roy and Jade are still sitting at the table next to me, and Jade is still sobbing into his chest. I love Jade a lot, I really do, and Magdalena said some nasty shit to her and she didn't deserve that, but… Well, it doesn't mean that shit wasn't true.

Evelyn has taken Haylee's wallet out of her apron. She's sitting on top of the bar, swinging her legs she goes through it. "Haylee Mary Cassidy. Nineteen years old," she says, examining what must be Haylee's driver's license. "Five-foot-five, hair brown, eyes green." She flips to the next card. "Shit."

Heather is standing next to her, staring towards the window. "What?" she asks.

Evelyn holds the card up. A student I.D. "She goes to Bryn Mawr."  
"That's a good school," Roy comments.

"Wicked good. What was a girl who goes to a top school in _Pennsylvania_ doin' workin' here?"

Roy shrugs. "Summer job?" he suggests. "Or maybe her reasons for being here were just as fucked up as the rest of ours. Where's her license registered to?"

"Umm…" Evelyn shuffles through the cards again. She wrinkles her nose up when she finds the license. "Montana."

"Well then whatever she was doing here, it sure wasn't coming home for break."

I haven't played this song in ages. My dad taught it to me, years ago. There should be a dynamic change here, I think. I'm not sure. He used to sing along but now I can't remember the words. Some days I can't remember the sound of his voice either.

I always remember my stepfather's voice, though. I can replay it in my head, like a record, and it never skips, not even when I want it to, when I scrape my finger across the vinyl as it spins, hard as I can, hoping it'll distort the sound. It never does.

I stabbed him with a carving knife the night I ran away. Didn't kill him. Some days I wish it had.

What does that say?

Evelyn glances at the stock of liquor bottles. "Would it be wrong if I stole a pina colada?"

Roy chuckles. "You know how to make those?"

She grins mischievously. "You want one? Or, like, six?"

"Damn, do I ever," he says, half-smiling. "You're gonna laugh at me, but can you do a virgin?"

Evelyn does, in fact, laugh. "Seriously?"

"I'm a recovering addict," he says. He is?

She stops laughing. "Oh." She hops off the counter and over the body, without a glance at it, before slipping behind the bar. "Anybody else want anything?"

"I'll take one, with alcohol," I say.

Roy glares at me. "No she won't. She'll have a virgin too." He strokes the back of Jade's neck. "Make it three."

Evelyn looks at Heather. "You want one, honey?"

"No."

Evelyn purses her lips. "Four virgin pina coladas it is."

Roy reaches across the table and picks up my gun. "It's not even a real Colt," he says, turning it around in my hands. "Murdered with a knock-off revolver. What a fucking stupid way to die." He sets it back down. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I stop playing and face him. "I didn't know you were an addict."

"I never told you?"

"No."

He exhales heavily. "Hard drugs. Mostly heroin. Started about your age. Got clean at fifteen."

I fold my knees up and hug them to my chest, resting my cheek on top. "Oh, well that's… Actually, that explains a lot."

He chuckles. "It does, doesn't it?"

I look at the body. "What are we supposed to do with Haylee?"

He shakes his head. "Bury her?"

Evelyn is flipping through the wallet again. "I think she's got a boyfriend," she says, holding up a creased photograph of Haylee kissing a guy on the cheek. Blond, clean-shaven, collared shirt. Cute, I guess, but how would I know? He could be a fucking Backstreet Boy and I'd still be scared to touch him. "Should we, like, try to contact him? Or her family? Or… Someone."

Roy shakes his head. "We can't risk it. The police and the JLA are already onto us. We just have to…"

"Leave her here?" I say. Roy kisses the top of Jade's head and doesn't reply. Which I think means the answer is "yes".

"Roy?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"When Magdalena thought I was lying about shooting her…" I pull my knees in tighter. I wish I could make myself smaller. Was is "eat me" or "drink me" that did that? "I wasn't. I could've done it."

He looks at me, eyes dim. "I don't doubt that."

I start up on the piano again. "It's the same…" The same… The fucking same, what comes after that?

I slam my fist on the keys. "Damnit, why can't I remember the damn words?" I exclaim. "How does it go, how does it fucking-"

"Em, relax it's just a song," Roy says.

"No, you don't understand!" I'm shrieking now. "It's not just a song, it's not, it's the only think I can fucking do, it's not, it's-"

Roy wraps his arms around me almost immediately. He's the only guy who can touch me without making my heart stop. I start to cry.

"Roy, I'm scared," I sob. "I'm so scared."

"Shh…" He soothes. "I know, I know you are, we all are…" He holds me against his chest, and I can smell his cigarettes on his shirt. My dad was a smoker too. They smell the same.

. "It's gonna be okay. Just… Straighten up, little soldier," he says, lifting my chin with his finger.

I sniff and wipe my face with my sleeve but I can't stop the tears completely. "You got that from an Eminem song."

"Did I?" He smiles. "Oh, yeah. 'Mockingbird'."

Jade, too, has just barely managed to stop crying. "It's the same old story, a fight for love and glory," she tells me, in a whisper. "A case of do or die." It's the first coherent sentence she's strung together since… Well, pretty much all night.

Right. That's how it goes.

Why couldn't I fucking remember that?

Roy moves back to Jade's side, holds her again and kisses her softly on the lips. "The world will always welcome lovers," he finishes. "As time goes by." It's beautiful, the two of them. It really is.

"We're totally screwed, aren't we?" I ask.

Roy chuckles and Jade squeezes my hand and neither of them answer.

I turn back to the piano.

_Touché_

_Take Your AZT_

* * *

Author's Notes:

So normally with these little interlude perspective flip chapters I've been uploading them at the same time as other chapters, but I don't know how long the next full chapter will take me, and this was done so I figured I'd post it. And anyway, while Heather and Evelyn are supporting characters, Emma's really more like a tritagonist (is that even a word? XD to Roy and Jade's protagonist and deuteragonist, respectively), so this probably warrants its own update anyway?

So on that note, I guess it's time I talk about Emma.

The first thing I want to say about Em is that she's a sexual abuse victim. For some reason, I'm not sure why, I've avoided saying so outright in the story itself, but I'll say it here. Her stepfather (the one she stabbed) sexually abused her. And I think that actually explains quite a bit about her personality and actions. She's timid, especially around guys, because she's so afraid of being hurt. She's basically afraid of men and doesn't really understand that sex can be anything other than a weapon. And she's probably got a bit of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which every so often manifests itself as panic attacks and outbursts and just general emotion instability.

It was kind of interesting to write from her perspective because I'd never really heard the way she thinks in my head before, if that made sense. And it turns out that she thinks like kind a film noir detective. XD I wasn't really expecting that from her, but I'm also not surprised by it. It fits her personality perfectly. Because Emma's smart. Emma's brave. And Emma's completely capable of stabbing a guy with a carving knife. Emma coulda shot that gun. If the situation had called for, she would have been capable of that.

On the one hand, that's a strength of hers. She's brave and emotionally strong. She stabbed her stepfather because he was abusive and she had the strength to do something about it. But on the other hand, well, she _stabbed a guy with a carving knife and wishes it'd killed him_. And frankly I think she was completely justified in doing that, but it's still a bit troubling that she's capable of that sort of violence. Because, even though right now she only uses it for self-defense or defending others, it would probably be possible for that capability to take her down a much darker path. In the last xhapter, Magdalena said that maybe has Roy has corrupted Emma, and she was kinda right. That's a legitimate possibility. Its subject to a lot of "alternate character interpretation" (TvTropes term XD), but it's definitely possible. Because Emma coulda shot that gun. Like, here's a kid with the internal strength necessary to fight back against an abuser, and he took that kid and he taught her to use that strength to be a functioning supervillain. And it's only a possibility; maybe it's Magdalena who corrupted her or maybe she would have been able to do it without any influence from either of them. But regardless, Emma is not innocent. She has lost that.

And on top of all that, she's just a kid. She's just a scared little kid. And even if he is kind of corrupting her, I think her relationship with Roy is really sweet. Because he is such a jackass sometimes but then he turns around and holds this kid while she cries because he cares about her so much and he wants to protect her and it's just like, oh, Roy, you're not such a bad guy after all. XD

Title and lyrics from "Tune-Up #3" from _Rent_. And regarding "Time Goes By"... _Casablanca_ is kind of a film-noir romance hybrid and somehow it seemed like the perfect choice for this for some reason I'm not really sure of? XD


	20. I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

_ Roy_

Eleven-thirty.

Empty glasses are scattered about the room, the remains of every cocktail Evelyn could think to make. Every non-alcohol cocktail, anyway. None of us are lucky enough to be doing this drunk.

I keep thinking maybe I should move the body but I don't know what to do with it. I figure we'll just leave it here, let someone else find it and call the police. Starlight trickles in through the window, scattering tiny white specks across the room. The room that is already speckled in red.

"I don't want you to go," Jade whispers. I hold her close against my chest.

"And I don't want to go," I whisper back. "But I don't have a choice."

She starts crying again. "God, Magdalena was right about me, wasn't she? I'm pathetic."  
"You are _not_ pathetic," I say firmly. "You are beautiful and amazing, and I love everything about you. You know that, right?"

"But I can't even help you. I just get you hurt."

I bring her face to mine and kiss her. "I got myself into this, Jade. And I'm gonna get us out. Okay?" I don't actually know how I'm going to do that, but somebody need to at least pretend to have a plan right now.

"Okay," she manages, a weak sound through her tears.

Evelyn points at the clock, the old fashioned wooden kind where the gears show through a glass panel. "Roy, we gotta bounce."

I nod at her, then turn back to Jade. "You gonna be okay?"

She gives a small nod. "I'll meet you at home?"

"See you there."

She looks up at me, frail inside my leather jacket, her eyes wet and glittering like the jewel on her necklace. "Be safe."

I kiss her again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

And then I have to leave her there.

God, if anything happens to her… It'll all be my fault, won't it?

* * *

Minutes to midnight.

The four of us walk down the street, side-by-side in the dark. None of us wanted to go all the way home just to change into our costumes, and so we are rag-tag and disheveled- Em in her combat boots and Heather covered in blood and Evelyn and I with scars on our bare arms. I'm weaponless, with tight fists ad dirt on the edges of my jeans and I have a horrible fucking feeling about this.

We reach the front gate of the stable and the door is locked. I take the keys out of my pocket. They are stained in blood, as are my hands, because I retrieved them from Haylee's apron just before we left. I fit them in the lock and let them turn. The gate creaks as it opens.

Midnight.

Showtime.

* * *

There is a barn on the stable property, and it isn't locked.

It's pitch black inside. A bare lightbulb hangs from the barn's ceiling. I reach up to pull the cord and turn it on, shed some light on this damn place.

"Don't," someone says. Magdalena. She beat us here. "Just toss me my keys."

I can't tell where her voice is coming from, so I just toss the keys onto the ground. They sound like bells as they land.

"How'd you get in?" I ask. "Place was locked."

She chuckles. "I never said they were the only copy."

"Magdalena, what's going on?" Emma demands. She's forceful and confident and it makes me smile in spite of the situation. That's my girl.

"Well," Magdalena says, her voice smooth, "I thought it was time you and Roy got a hold of exactly what it is you're fighting for. Evelyn, give me a light, will you?"

I can actually hear Evelyn swallow. "Yeah, okay" Her hands catch fire and the entire room turns a glowing red.

And in the center of the room there is a wooden chair, and a man is tied to it.

He's bloodied up, like he put up a struggle, and a white clothes is tied around his mouth as a gag. I recognize him immediately- the guy Jade calls "The Businessman". The _bastard_ who tried to _rape_ my girlfriend. The one I could goddamn kill. And I could. Fuck it, I could _kill him_. I'm seeing red. My fists are clenched at my side and it's taking every ounce of strength in my body not to put an arrow in his heart here and now.

"What do you want us to do, Magdalena?" I ask, through gritted teeth.

She smirks. "Why don't I let Heather answer that?"

Heather opens up her silver briefcase- the one we stole from the train? I can't even tell- and takes something out. She starts to move towards the Businessman. I hold an arm in front of her and stop her from taking another step.

"No," I demand. "I want answers _now_."

Magdalena starts laughing. "And you'll get them. Now let Heather do her job."

Fighting her isn't going to get me anywhere. Reluctantly, I lower my arm and Heather steps forward.

She holds up the object from her briefcase. A syringe. The Businessman, seeing this, goes wide eyed and begins to struggle against his restraints. Heather ignores him and, silent and expressionless, injects it into his arm. He screams through the gag, and when he falls silent she removes it. I can hear as light tapping against the roof. It's starting to rain.

"So," she says, in a harsh whisper that makes me think of the way you can see your breath in the winter. "you're going to tell me the names of everyone you deal to and get your drugs from, and if you're good and you don't lie to me, I'm not going to do that again. Understood?"

He gives a jerky nod, and its clear the movement is painful. Good. The bastard should be in pain.

"In that case," Heather continues, "start talking."

He's sweating and shuddering and when he opens his mouth all that comes out is a stutter. Looks like he's addict on top of a dealer- I don't know what Heather stuck in him but I do know withdrawal when see it. Well, I hope it fucking hurts.

Heather rolls her eyes, her already bloodstained face even redder in the light of the flame. "God, this always happens," she huffs. She takes a notebook and pen out of her briefcase and drops them on his lap, untying just one of his hands.

"Names," she whispers in his ear. "Try anything funny and get burned alive."

He begins to write, his hands shaking. The room is sweltering hot and there's a rotten, sickening smell that I can only assume is Evelyn's skin starting to melt. Emma digs her fingernails into my arms and I want him dead and everything is crimson deep and I think this must be what it's like in Hell.

He finishes writing and hands her the notebook. "Is this everything?" she asks. He nods.

"Are you sure?" A threat. He nods again.

"Good," Heather says. She looks at Evelyn, and gives a brisk tilt of her head. The flames coming out of Evelyn's hands explode in size, sparks flying through the room like deranged butterflies. The rain, meanwhile, has picked, heavier and faster, and now it sounds as loud as horse hooves, stampeding across the roof.

The Businessman begins to hyperventilate. "B-but… I th-thought… You said…" he stutters.

"I said you'd get burned alive if you tried anything funny," Heather corrects, with a smile. "I never said you wouldn't if you didn't."

He struggles at the restraints and swipes at her with his free hand. "Let me go!" he shouts. "All of you let me-"

And then four things happen at once.

Emma, the smell finally getting to her, bends over and throws up, her revolver falling to the floor with a clatter as she brings her hands to her mouth. There's a loud crash- thunder- from outside, followed by a flash of lightning so bright it momentarily blinds me. Magdalena, started by the noise, whips around to stare at Emma, knocking into the chair.

And the restraints come undone.

The Businessman throws open the door, stumbling as he runs into the rain and the water pours inside. Magdalena narrows her eyes.

"Kill him."

The four of us just stand there, staring at the gun on the floor, not sure who she's talking to or who should reach for it. "Didn't you hear me?" Magdalena screams. "I said _kill him_!"

Timidly, Emma takes a step towards the gun. I push her back. This kid has become a lot of terrible things because of me and I am _not_ to add murderer to that list.

But that doesn't mean I can't be one.

I pick up the gun and head into the storm.

I don't think it's rained here once the whole damn summer, yet now it comes down in torrents. I am soaked within seconds. The Businessman is lying on the pavement just outside the front gate. Heather's drug must have kicked in before he could get very far. Holding the revolver tight in my fist, I approach him, my vision still tinted the color of blood.

"You bastard," I say, through my teeth. "You _fucking_ _bastard_!" I kick him in the groin, the stomach, the chest, the head, over and over.

"You tried to rape her!" I scream. "You're _scum_! YOU'RE FUCKING _SCUM_!"

I aim the gun at his head, cock it into place. I hope the bastard rots in hell. It's what he deserves after what he did to Jade. Finger on the trigger. And…

He's and convulsing, covered in bruises and dirt that follows the pattern on the sole of my boots. He starts coughing up blood and tears start dripping down his face, nearly indistinguishable from the rain.

And I have a gun aimed at his head.

I have a…

Oh my god.

I'm a monster.

I'm shivering, from the rain I guess but it feels more like withdrawal. "Go." I whisper.

He takes short, shaky breaths. "But-"

"Go!" I snap, thrusting the gun forward. "Before I change my fucking mind!"

Shivering just as much as I am, he stands up, and he runs.

And I fall to my knees.

I'm a _monster_.

And the rain beats down.

* * *

Jade throws her arms around me as soon as Emma and I step through the door. "Oh, thank god!" she exclaim. She's still crying, her mascara stained down her face. "I thought, I thought for sure she'd hurt you, I thought-"

"We're fine," I whisper. "I'm fine, I…"

I…

I collapse onto the floor and I start to cry.

"I almost killed a man tonight."

"What?" Jade gasps. She kneels down to look me in the eye. "Roy, what, what happened?"

"He was… Your client, The Businessman… She had Heather torture him and then…"

"Oh, my…" She pulls me into her arms and I sob into her chest. "Roy…"

I'm a monster," I say, out loud for the first time and the words taste like venom. "I'm a goddamn monster."

"No," Jade says, shaking her head. "No, you are not a…"

"I almost…" Then the words stop coming and I just cry.

And outside, in the desert, the rain falls.

I tried  
I tried  
I tried, well

and we'll love again, we'll laugh again,  
we'll cry again and we'll dance again,  
and it's better off this way,  
so much better off this way,  
I can't clean the blood off the sheets in my bed.

And never again, no never again,  
they gave us two shots to the back of the head  
and we're all dead now.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I feel like this took longer than I expected it would- sorry about that! I'm not sure what happened, I guess I've just been in a bit of a mood the last few days and every time I tried to write this it just wasn't happening. Also this chapter is really short. XD Sorry about that too.

Anyway… Yeesh. I don't even know where to start. Writing that last scene was weirdly emotionally exhausting. Like, I kept tearing up, and then afterwards, I just kind of collapsed backwards onto my bed for a minute. And now as I'm writing this I'm stopping to go make some tea because… Whoa. What _was _that?

Okay, back with tea now. XD I'm still not really sure what to say. I mean, obviously this is the climax of the story and I've known something like this was coming pretty much the whole time. (Although this actually isn't how I originally envisioned what I call "the gun scene"- Roy nearly shooting The Businessman. I had two slightly different scenarios for that scene in my head and was actually debating right up to the last minute which one to go with. I also debated whether to have him use the revolver or his bow and arrows but in the end it just had to be the revolver. I don't know why.) But somehow it still threw me for such a loop. This chapter just wound up being such an emotional roller coaster, especially for Roy. He has been so strong up until now, so good at keeping up his "uncaring jackass" façade. But now he's almost killed. He only very narrowly avoided doing so. He managed to catch himself, but the fact is, Roy could have killed The Businessman. He is capable of that. And now that he knows that, he is overwhelmed with guilt and self-loathing because of it. He was already thinking of himself as a monster, and now, in his mind, he has solid proof.

I sort of think of this story as having a three-act structure, the way screenplays are written. This is the end of act two. Now that Roy knows exactly what he is capable of- and also exactly what he's up against- the game is going to change.

Title and lyrics from "I Never Told You What I Do For A Living" by My Chemical Romance. I also considered using MCR's "Demolition Lovers"- I decided on "I Never Told You" because the lyrics fit better, "Demolition Lovers" is much closer to the mood of the chapter and I think makes better "background music" for it, especially the gun scene. So if any of you listen to the songs while you read the story (I have no clue if any of you do that, but if you do XD) I'd recommend listening to "Demolition Lovers" too.


	21. Red or White Wine?

Red or White Wine?

_ Jade_

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess. She was born the king and queen of a peaceful kingdom in the woods, and she was beautiful, pale as a winter morning and gentle as it too. Her mother, who loved her, named her Snow White.

Whenever I heard this particular fairy tale, growing up, I pictured her with green eyes. Skin white as snow, hair black as ebony, lips red as rubies or maybe blood. Eyes green as jade. It seemed to fit. Or maybe I was just projecting.

* * *

"Baby, you asleep?"

It's four am and it's still raining. It's been a while since I've seen rain like this, rain so heavy you could drown as it fills the space between the street and the sidewalk. I lift my head to rest it on his chest. "No"

Roy moves his hand towards me, then sets it back down, like he's scared to touch me. "Me either."

I rest my hand on his. "Roy, you… You can touch me, you know."

He swallows, hard, and doesn't look at me. His eyes are as clear and as wet as the rain falling outside. "I'm a murderer."

"No more than I am."

He doesn't answer. I curl up against his side and intertwine my fingers with his. I want so badly to know what to say. He's been keeping me safe all these weeks, keeping me warm and dry in the rain and I wish I knew how to return that. What I want, more than anything in the word what I want is to be there for him.

"You didn't go through with it, Roy," I say. "You stopped yourself."  
"Been stopping myself from shooting up three years now, doesn't mean I'm not an addict." His voice is tense, angry.

"Roy-"

He kisses me, suddenly and hard, his tongue against mine and his hands on my thighs. before I can react.

"Roy-" I try to say. He doesn't listen, instead pulling off his shirt and starting at the ribbons holding up my nightgown.

"Roy!"

He pulls away, covers his mouth with his hand, looking ashamed of himself. "Oh, god, Jade, I'm sorry I didn't mean to… To force myself onto you, I…" There's thunder outside and when his voice cracks, the sound is just as unstable.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. He starts to cry. When he came home this morning, I realize, was the first time I've ever seen him cry. "I… I told you I'm a monster."

My chest hurts. Is there a word for that- feeling someone else's pain, as physically as if it were your own? I kiss the tears off his cheek, then kiss his lips.

"Shh…" I whisper. "It's okay. You didn't… It's okay." I kiss him again, run my fingers down his chest and towards the waistline of his boxers. He pulls my nightgown over my head and leans me back against the bed. His lips taste like saltwater and coffee and his hands are hot and rough as the desert. Outside, in that desert, the rain beats down.

* * *

For a few years, Snow White lived a perfect life. She could have everything she could want, every dress and book and jewel. But more importantly, she was surrounded by people she loved- her mother, her father, her kingdom. She loved them with all her heart, and they loved her back, and she was happy.

Then one fall, when Snow White was old enough to know but too small to understand, her mother fell ill. She died that winter, on a day that was ice cold and grey but without a single flake of snow.

Snow White's father soon remarried. His new wife was a young noble woman from the outskirts of the kingdom. She was beautiful, and although she was vain, her heart was not yet filled with the hate that would soon overcome it. She was overjoyed to become queen, and she did her best to be a good mother to her small stepdaughter. Things had changed, but they went on, and Snow White was happy.

Then one winter, just a few years later, when Snow White was old enough to understand but still too small to make a difference, her father went to visit a nearby kingdom that had been threatening war. He hoped to make peace.

He never returned home. The snow, that winter morning, fell in drifts.

* * *

The rain's stopped when I wake up. The light is soft and the air is calm and he's already out of bed. Six in the morning, that doesn't usually happen.

I get dressed and then go to kitchen. He and Emma are at the table, both in their pajamas and both looking like they haven't slept. Three plates of eggs and toast sit in front of them.

"We cooked," Emma says quietly. She glances at the plates, which are untouched. "And then we didn't eat."

"You _should_ eat," Roy tells her. "You puked up everything you ate yesterday, you need nutrients."

"I'm not hungry," she replies.

"You're always hungry." She makes a face, but picks up a fork anyway.

"You should eat too," I say, walking to Roy's side and resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not hungry," he says, blankly, ignoring the fact that she just said that same thing.

I sit down and lean my head against his shoulder, hold his hand and wish there was more I could do for him. I'm trying so hard to be strong for once and I think I'm failing pretty miserably at it.

Emma polishes off her plate in minutes. She sets it tone, the fork clinking against the china link the ringing of a bell.

"So is he alive?" she asks, peering up at Roy from under her bangs.

"I don't know," he answers, blankly.

"But you didn't kill him?"  
"_I_ didn't," he says. "Heather's drug might have."

"So he's still out there?"  
"Yeah, I guess so."

She exhales and brushes her bangs out of her eyes. Her skin seems splotchy, like she's been crying but it could just be her freckles.

"So what do we do now?"

"Wait," he says firmly. He is still, despite everything, strong. "Now we wait."  
"What for?" she asks. His mouth is set tight, his expression hard, but he has no answer.

* * *

Snow White soon grew into a young woman. She was soft-spoken and fragile, but kind, and always hoping to help others. She always tried to see the good in things, and in people. Although she missed her parents dearly, her life had gone on, and she was, for the most part, happy.

As she had grown, though, Snow White had also become quite beautiful. Her stepmother, a beauty herself, and wanted only the best for the girl. Soon, she thought perhaps it was time to marry the girl off. The queen had tried, since her husband's death, to raise the girl and run the kingdom on her own, but despite her best efforts, the kingdom was seeing hard times. War and crop failure had plagued them. The queen hoped marrying her stepdaughter to the prince of a nearby kingdom might give them the ally they so badly needed. The people, after all, were growing angry, and the queen was growing desperate.

The Queen journeyed to the neighboring kingdom, only to discover that their prince had recently become betrothed. Discouraged, she began the long trip home. As she left the palace grounds, though, someone stopped her- the king. He, too, was widowed, and lonely. Hoping for a bit of company, he asked her to for dinner. She did. And over the candlelight, they fell in love.

The Queen soon had to return to her own castle, and after a few months of long-distance correspondence, The King came to visit. With his dead wife's ring in his pocket, he pulled up to the castle on a white horse, planning to propose.

And then he caught a glimpse of Snow White.

She was standing at her wishing well, singing to herself, her ebony hair down to her knees and shining in the moonlight. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Lust is a powerful thing, and perhaps the king had truly fallen in love with the queen, or perhaps he had, out of some sick desire or other, only deluded himself into thinking he had, but either way, it didn't matter. As soon as he saw Snow White, he wanted her, instead and all for himself.

The King proposed, and the queen accepted. She introduced her fiancé to her stepdaughter the next morning. Both women were unaware that he had already glimpsed the girl in the night. Neither could see the hunger in his eyes. Or maybe they could and just chose not to believe it.

Knowing how she took pride in her appearance, The King gave the queen an engagement gift of a large mirror, its silver frame carved into a pattern of apple blossoms and dusted with diamonds. She hung it on the wall of the corridor just outside Snow White's bedroom, feeling it was simply too beautiful to keep all for herself.

The wedding, a few months later, was a lavish affair, as big and glamorous as money could afford. The Queen, after all, loved all things beautiful. Dressed in her lavish white gown, the bride was stunning. Snow White was the maiden of honor, and though she was dressed much less extravagantly, in a simple dress of pale pink and lace, her hair woven with apple blossoms, she was equally stunning. Or perhaps more.

As the clock approached midnight, Snow White, tired from an evening of dancing and livelihood, quietly slipped away, climbing the servant's staircase to her bedroom for some rest. The King followed her.

The Queen realized her husband was no longer there. As the party raged on like a fire in the ballroom, she went in search of him. She reached Snow White's bedroom just as the clock struck midnight. The door was open a crack, and in the reflection of the mirror on the corridor wall, she saw. Or at least, she thought she saw. For in the mirror, all The Queen could see was her husband with his hands under Snow White's dress and his mouth against her ruby red lips. She could not see the tears on Snow White's face, or her useless attempts to struggle as the man bruised her fragile body, or that the girl's pink dress was stained with something equally red. The Queen shattered the mirror with her hand. Years later, as the story spread to other kingdoms, became nothing more than an urban legend, some would say a shard of it pierced her heart.

* * *

The next morning we get what we're waiting for.

It's about six am when the phone rings. Neither Roy nor Emma are up at this hour so I'm the one who answers. "You'll never guess who I met at the stable this morning," Magdalena tells me, her voice sweeter than honey, like she really wants to play a guessing game with me.

My throat feels dry and I'm dizzy with nerves. "Who?" I ask, quietly. She was right about me. I'm pathetic.

"The police," she says, her tone going dark. "I played damsel-in-distress, asked what was going on. Apparently the JLA tipped them off about a case, and they're pretty sure it's connected to the body they found not far from there a few days ago."  
"Oh," I say. I'm not sure I understand but I don't want her to know that.

"And do you know how the JLA found out about this 'case'?" she asks harshly.

I think she called before they'd be up on purpose. She wanted me to be the one to pick up. Because she knows she can intimidate me. Well it's working. I'm terrified. "Because Roy got caught by the press," I whisper.

"What are you to, Jade?" she snaps.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Nothing."

"You better hope that's true," she says. Her voice is sweet again, but the connection is bad, crackling and it makes her sound tinny. "Or who knows where the police might get tipped off to showing up next?"  
She hangs up, leaving a metallic ringing in my ear. Only the faintest bits of light are coming through the venetian blinds, and I am so dizzy I can barely see. I am left only to imagine what expression could possibly accompany that last sentence. Why Grandma what big teeth you have.

* * *

The next thing Snow White knew, she had been enslaved in her home. All of her possessions, from her beautiful dresses and jewels to her favorite teacup, were taken from her, as was her bedroom, the scene of the crime. In their place, she was given tattered dresses even the servants would never have been told to wear, and made to sleep on straw in the dungeon. The queen forced her to do chore after chore, every day from the crack of dawn until midnight, when she nearly passed out with exhaustion. The enslavement made the queen's aching heart harden, more and more by the second. At first she felt remorse, but soon she began to take a perverse sort of pleasure in torturing the girl, and after a time she felt no remorse at all. Perhaps The

Queen was truly "evil", if such a thing exists, but even if it does not, she was no longer the kind woman she had once been. She had succumbed to her vanity and her pain, and become ruthless and selfish and cruel.

Maybe Snow White should have been angry, or fought at the injustice of her new situation. But she wasn't. For after what the king had done to her, Snow White was unable to feel much of anything but sadness and guilt and pain. At first she just hated herself, for not being able to stop what had happened, but then she started to think perhaps she had deserved it. She recounted the days leading up to the wedding, over and over in her head, and saw only how she might have angered the queen, or led the king on. She recounted the years of her life and saw only her flaws. She'd look in the mirror and see a horrible, ugly, weak and stupid and worthless girl, and every little mistake she made just made her more certain of the fact that she deserved what the king had done and the way the queen treated her. At first she cried herself to sleep every night, thinking of perhaps taking one of the jagged rocks from the dungeon floor and slicing her wrists open just to stop the hurt and because the world would be better without her anyway. And then she stopped feeling the hurt, and all she felt was numb.

None of this, however, stopped The King from lusting over the girl. He'd sneak into the dungeon at night, hurting her again and again and making her hate herself more and more. The Queen observed this, and, enraged that her husband _still_ did not want her and only her, did the only thing she could think to do: kill them both.

She hired her best huntsman for the job- a young man about Snow White's age and trained with a bow and arrow. She told him to bring her their hearts, ripped out of their chest as they were still beating.

The Huntsman was a jaded man. His parents had died when he was very young, and he had learned to kill as a means of survival. The the request did not jar him, and he killed the king without a second thought.

It was midnight when he came for Snow White. She was in the garden, sitting on the edge of the wishing well, knees folded against her chest, starlight glistening in eyes the color of jade, and when he raised his bow she did not scream. Instead she stared silently ahead, having nothing to wish for but death.

And he looked into her eyes and he could not do it.

The Huntsman told her of her stepmother's plan, of how he was supposed to kill her. He had tears in his eyes, the color of an overcast sky as he begged her to run. Though Snow White wanted nothing more than the death he offered her, she did what he asked. She ran. It was his tears that did it.

* * *

"Do you think she was serious?" Roy asks. He's sitting next to me at the kitchen table, his hand on my knee, the only thing keeping me steady.

"I don't know," I say, meekly. "She sounded pretty mad."

"But she _can't_," Emma declares. "If she calls the cops it'll draw attention to her. She wouldn't do that." She swallows, and then adds, more quietly, "Would she?"

Roy presses his lips together. "Probably not, but we can't take that risk. We have to get out of here."

"Get out of here?" I ask.

"We'll go to a hotel," Roy decides. "I have cash, she won't be able to trace us."

Emma gives a brisk nod and stands up. "I'll go pack," she says, before disappearing into the bedroom.

"Are you all right?" he asks me, once she's gone. His expression is firm. He's barely shown any emotion at all, the last two days, which is how I know he's hurting and god I just wish I could make that go away.

"I'm…" I try to say I'm fine but I'm not and I'm not brave like he is. Instead I just burst into tears.

Roy wraps his arms around me, kisses the top of my head. "We'll figure out a way out of this," he says. I almost believe that he believes it.

"I love you," he says, suddenly. "You know that, right? Whatever happens, you know that I love you more than anything."

"Of course I know that," I say. How could I ever not? He's the one person who's ever made me feel loved. "And I love you. More than anything."

Whatever happens?

"Roy…" I begin. And then I see the deadness in his eyes, colorless and dull like they've been since he came home that night, and I don't finish. I kiss him instead, wishing it would bring him back to life.

* * *

Snow White ran.

She ran until her feet were numb and she finally collapsed, sobbing in a heap in the middle of a dark forest. She didn't know why she was crying. She hadn't felt anything at all for months now and yet, all of a sudden, she was unable to stop the tears.

It had been a while since anyway had shown her any sort of kindness. Maybe that was why.

Snow White soon fell asleep, and when she woke up she found herself on a soft bed in a small cottage. Seven dwarf brother stood above, offering tea and gentle smiles. The  
Eldest Dwarf explained that The Youngest Dwarf, who did not speak, how found Snow White in the forest while on his way to their mine and, loving soul that he was, fetched his brothers to help bring her to safety. The dwarfs asked Snow White for her name and her story and she told them truth-even if they were dishonest, she figured, she had nothing left to lose. The dwarfs- who were not, as she would soon learn, dishonest, who were in fact as kind and loving as anyone could be- offered her a place to stay. Though they asked nothing in exchanged, Snow White, not wanting to take advantage, offered to help them with their cooking and housekeeping. And so a friendship was born.

The dwarfs' cottage, in a pretty little clearing deep in the woods, was small and plain, nothing compared to the luxuries of the palace. But compared to the life she had been living, it was heavenly. For the first time in a long time, Snow White was safe. And for the first time in a long time, she felt happy.

She often found herself thinking about The Huntsman, though she didn't know why. Perhaps, she thought, it was because he was dead. Surely, The Queen would have killed him for failing to kill her. Surely she was responsible for his death. Perhaps that was why she thought of him. Or maybe it was just the way his eyes had no color to them. She hoped he was alive. She wanted nothing more than to thank him for what he'd done.

Far from there, at the palace, The Huntsman was, in fact, still alive. He had ripped the heart from a deer, to trick The Queen into believing Snow White was dead. And though he didn't know why it mattered, he knew he'd do anything to keep her safe.

The Queen had kept the broken mirror, moving it to the throne room, where it sat above her black velvet throne and a rapidly increasing collection of bodies. She had begun to kill many of the kingdom's beautiful women, for no reason other than to appease her rage and vanity. The king's heart and the heart she believed was Snow White's sat in a gilded cage in the center of the room, her prized possessions, and though she tried to mask it, with fresh apples and perfume, the room smelled of death.

One day, in the middle of an ice cold winter, a beggar entered the throne room. A small, ragged looking woman, the Queen was about to turn her away- or because kill her just for disturbing her piece- when The Beggar produced an object that caught the Queen's attention: a length of hair, several feet long and black as ebony.

The Beggar- who made her living as a con woman, and was quite lovely herself- explained that she had been wandering through the forest, searching for someone to steal from. She had come across the hair in a clearing, by a small cottage. The cottage was empty, so The Beggar, curious, waiting until nightfall for the inhabitants to return home. When they did, she saw seven small men, and a young girl with shoulder-length black hair, skin white as snow lips red as blood eyes green as jade and very much alive.

The Queen realized The Huntsman must have helped her escape. She called for him at once, and when he entered the room, she removed the rotting flesh of the deer's heart from it's gilded cage and asked him what it was. When he replied that it was Snow White's heart, she thrust a dagger into his stomach, called him a liar and instructed him to a eat it, smiling the whole time.

The Huntsman, though in excruciating pain, managed to swallow the heart, the image Snow White's face the only thing her could think of. Then The Queen took an apple from a silver bowl beside the throne. She took her dagger and slammed it into the mirror, shattering it once more and leaving silvery shards that glistened on the blood-stained floor. Carefully, she chose a shard, hid it inside the apple, and gave it to The Beggar. She instructed her to give the apple to Snow White and make sure she died. When The Huntsman cried out, it was not because of his pain, but because he wanted nothing more than to protect Snow White. He realized, then, that he was in love with her.

The Queen realized it as well, and, still smiling, told him to go with The Beggar. His punishment, for lying and for disobeying orders, was that he would have to watch. She gagged his mouth and shackled his hands and feet, so that he could not attempt to help Snow White, promised the Beggar a handsome reward, and then sent them on their way.

The Beggar led The Hunstman through a path in the dark forest. It was freezing cold and the snowflakes felt heavy as stone. They arrived at the forest night had fallen. She tied him to a tree before she approached the house. He could do nothing but cry silently.

* * *

As it turns out, just about my entire life fits in two suitcases. I take the necessities- clothes and toiletries and a bit of food- a few of my teacups and the books I can't part with. Emma's life fits in even less- between the three of us, we need three suitcases and her violin case. And then we leave.

The hotel room has two double beds, with clean white sheets and fluffy pillows. The whole hotel is so pristine and elegant and I've only ever been in hotels like this for work and I feel so out of place. I sink down onto one of the beds and hold my head in my hands. "What are we going to do?" It feels like we've asked that question so many times, over and over and yet we still can't find the answer.

Roy sits down next to me, wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my neck. "We'll figure it out."

Emma set her violin case down, leaning the toe of her combat boot on top and crossing her arms. "What if we don't?" she asks. "What _then_?"

He exhales heavily. "Then I guess she wins."

She draws back the curtain of the window, letting the sun stream in so bright it obscures the features of her face. "Bit of a damned if we do damned if we don't, ain't it?" she asks. He gives a slight nod, his expression set tight.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Damned if we do what?" I ask.

Emma looks at me, the light picking up the reddish undertones of her hair, turning it the color of rust. "Kill her."

"You two have been talking about killing her?"

"Not seriously," Roy answers, his voice as dull as his eyes. "We're not gonna do it. We were just… Well, it just sort of came up."

"We didn't want to tell you 'cause we didn't want to scare you," Emma adds. I look at the floor. They think I'm weak too, don't they?

"I'm not…" No. No they're right. No point in arguing that, really.

"It's just that…" Emma begins. She sighs, walks to the bed and sits down, knees pulled to her. "You're the only one of us who's any good, you know that, Jade?"

It takes me a second to realize the implication of that statement. I shake my head. "No, that's not true."

Roy's eyes go darker than I've ever seen them. "Could you kill someone?" he asks, harshly, with more emotion than I've heard in him for days. "Ever, under any circumstance, could you?"

"I…" I bite my lip. "No."

"Well we could."

The harshness is gone. He's quiet again, catatonic even. I rest my hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes, wincing like he's in pain. "I could."

* * *

By the time they reached the Dwarfs cottage, night had fallen. The Dwarfs had returned to their mine after dinner, and Snow White was alone, singing softly to herself and she cleaned up from the meal. She was startled by the knock at the door, as hardly anyone ever came to this part of the woods, but she answered all the same.

The Beggar offered her the apple, telling the girl that she was a farmer's wife, poor and struggling to get by. Snow White believed her. She always did. She gave the woman a few coins, and thanked her as she took apple.

And the Huntsman watched, helplessly, as Snow White bit into the apple, and the shard of glass caught in her throat and she fell to the ground as she began to bleed, red staining deep into the white snow.

The Beggar left them both, him tied to a tree in tears and her bleeding on the ground returning to the castle to collect her reward. It was nearly an hour later when the Dwarfs arrived. They saw Snow White, and rushed to her body, all of them beginning to cry as they saw that her eyes were closed and she wasn't breathing. The Eldest Dwarf wrapped his scarf, a ragged old piece of cloth, around her neck, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

That was when The Youngest Dwarf saw The Hunstman.

Silently, he approached him and undid the gag around his mouth. The Hunstman, desperate, told The Youngest Dwarf of The Queen's plan, and begged him to untie him, as he was the only one who could stop it. The Youngest Dwarf was a bit afraid to trust him, but, desperate to save Snow White, he untied him.

Still shackled, The Huntsman could barely manage to walk to Snow White's body. He fell to his knees at her side, sobbing, and told her he was so sorry he couldn't save her.

And he leaned down and kissed her lips- pale now, as the blood drained away and stained her impossibly white skin. And he whispered that he loved her.

And she opened her eyes.

The bleeding had stopped. She was alive. A miracle, or magic, or maybe just love. The Huntsman and the Dwarfs threw their arms around her, and when the Huntsman kissed her again she whispered that she loved him too.

* * *

I wake up in the middle of the night, from a nightmare I can't remember as soon as I open my eyes. I slip into a dress and flats before going outside, standing by the front of the building because I can't think of anywhere else to go. I stare up at the stars, and they seem so very far away.

Most nights I make wishes on stars. Tonight it feels pointless.

"Jade," I hear. I turn around to see Roy, barefoot, like he didn't even take the time to put on shoes. He must have heard me get up.

"Hi," I whisper. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.

"You okay?"

I feel like crying. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

He smiles, a little. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," I say. "I know you're not fine. You've barely spoken in two days. I…"

"I'm a terrible person," he whispers, his eyes dead. "That's all, it is, I guess. That's what's wrong."

"You are not," I say. "Roy, you didn't kill him."

"But I could have," he says. "I… I don't know what I'm capable of, Jade, but I know I don't like it."

"It doesn't matter what you're capable of," I say, tears in my eyes and the words feeling like they're getting caught in my throat on the way up. "It matter what you choose to do. And I've made just as many bad choices as you have so if you're a terrible person then so am-"

He kisses me, hard and hot and then I'm ripping his shirt off and he's leaning me against the building and slipping his hands under my dress, beads of sweat glistening on his skin in the sweltering summer air that only seems to get hotter as we touch.

The stars wink at as. Voyeuristic little things, aren't they? They watch us and they listen to our wishes but do they ever grant them?  
I wish for him to be okay. Please.

* * *

After a few days, The Dwarfs, Snow White and The Huntsman decided to return to the palace, to defeat The Queen once and for all. They did not, at Snow White's insistence, plan to kill, but simply to imprison her in the dungeon, where she could no longer do any harm.

When they got there, though, she was already dead, lying on the floor amongst the corpses, her throat slit with a shard of mirror glass. Her crown had been stolen, and a bite was taken out of every last apple in the throne room.

The Beggar- The Con Woman- had returned for her reward. It hadn't been to her satisfaction.

They cleaned out the throne room, giving a proper burial to each of the dead. Snow White was the only one to shed a tear for The Queen, remembering the days before the trouble had started.

And then the ordeal was done. Snow White took her rightful place as ruler of the kingdom, intent on ruling with the same kindness as her parents before her. The Dwarfs served as her cherished advisors.

Snow White and The Huntsman- The Prince- soon married. At the wedding, Snow White saw, for the first time, color, in The Prince's eyes. They were in love. And they lived happily ever after.

_Honey, you're playing with matches._

_It's not time to go, it's something in your eyes.  
You can't take it slow, it's something in the wine.  
You taste like something's wrong.  
"Tell me, darling, is something wrong?"_

* * *

Author's Notes:

So sorry about the wait on this. I dunno, this chapter was just giving me issues. I don't think there should be many more long delays on this story. You know how TV shows go on hiatus for a few weeks around the holidays? Just think of this delay as that. XD

Anyway, um… Yeah. Roy and Jade _did_ just have sex up against the side of building. I seriously have no clue where that came from. I wasn't planning it, it just happened, and my reaction to it was pretty much "What the _fuck_, Elle?" XD Apparently I just like writing _really angsty_ sex scenes? XD

So regarding the fairy tale, I just had this idea a while ago to sort of "frame" a chapter in Jade telling a fairy tale, and this seemed like the place to do it. I sort of see it as a little side-step inside her head- even though she's not really commenting on it, she's the one telling the reader the story, so it's all her thoughts, if that makes sense, and I think it says a lot about her, in it's own way. Because she believes in fairy tales. Because she's sweet and romantic and so horribly naïve. I don't really know why I picked Snow White- I think I was just inspired by _Once Upon A Time_. XD At first it was going to be Sleeping Beauty, but then I thought about it more and Jade seemed more like a Snow White to me. (and on that note I'm totally trying to figure out which Disney/fairy tale character each _Teen Titans _character would be now. XD Dick and Star are definitely Eric and Ariel. And Toni is Rapunzel, for my friend. And Em is Alice, if Em counts. But that's all I got. XD and now I'm thinking if I ever figure this out for enough characters I should totally do a series of one-shots of different characters telling fairy tales like this. Hmm.) And of course Jade's version of Snow White is also seriously messed up but that's mostly just me being incapable of doing anything that isn't exceptionally creepy. XD

I'll talk about what's going through Roy's head more in the next chapter, I guess, but… Poor guy. This is really hard on him. He is, as Jade says, near catatonic. He just doesn't know how to react so he's basically not reacting. And when he is, he's doing it by being really really sexually aggressive. So there's also that?

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving (for those of who live in the US) and are having a wonderful start to the holiday season!

Title and lyrics from "Red or White Wine" by Drop Dead, Gorgeous. The album that song from is called "Worse Than A Fairy Tale" and some kind of crazy multi-media concept album about a serial killer. Now you know. Also this song choice totally proves once and for all that I am completely and totally emo. XD Now you know. XD


	22. What I've Done

What I've Done

_Roy_

Hi.

My name is Roy. I'm eighteen years old. And I'm…

_Narcotics Anonymous, Twelve Step Program. _

_ Step One: We admitted we were powerless over our addiction- that our lives had become unmanageable._

I started going to NA after my second stint in rehab. I wanted to get better, but I didn't know why. I still don't. I mean, I don't want to go back. I'm ashamed of what I've done. But I still don't understand what it was that drove me, after that second time in rehab, to actually try that time.

Day I got home from in-patient, everybody was fawning over me. Ollie acted like I was coming home from boarding school or summer camp, instead of an intensive rehabilitation program for troubled teens. Like he was pretending I was just a normal kid.

Danny had gotten out of rehab about a week before and his mom invited Ollie, Dinah and I over for dinner. Called it a homecoming celebration, even though we all knew better.

Danny's a scrawny little Jewish guy with glasses and hair that sticks straight up, good-looking in a Mark-from-_Rent_ sort of way. Haven't seen him in a while, but we keep in touch over email. He just finished up high school and is going to film school in the fall. I'm proud of him, cheesy as that sounds. Truth is, he's the only real friend I've ever had.

Back in ninth grade, his brother was an addict too and kind of hellraiser, and Danny was the good son. Even when we were using, he was polite and well-mannered and got good grades, which I guess is how he slipped through the cracks. A couple of years later, his sister developed an eating disorder, as if just to make sure no one in the family came out of high school without looking like a case study in an abnormal psychology class.

Still, whenever I went to his house I was struck by how, well, home-y it was. Small and cozy, with family pictures and his kid sister's artwork hanging up on the refrigerator. They ate dinner together every night, sitting around the kitchen table like a real family. Ollie and Dinah usually just went out and left me with money for takeout.

Maybe it was just an act, the whole Norman Rockwell thing, just a face they put on for the neighbors to hide how fucked up they really were. But it always seemed like their mom was trying, like no matter what happened she loved them so much and I guess that was what what got to me.

Anyway the night of the party we're all sitting around in their dining room, the one they only ever used for special occasions, trying to act like everything was normal, asking questions about school and whatever. And all of a sudden Danny excuses himself and gets up and, calmer than a wax statue which was what was so frightening about it, walks out of the room.

I followed him, and found him in his bedroom sobbing so hard his glasses had fogged up. "It just makes me so sick, you know?" he asked me, voice cracking. "To sit there and have her act like everything's normal when we both know what a colossal jackass I am."

Danny was not a jackass. His brother was a jackass. Alec was a jackass. _I_ was a jackass. If Danny was a jackass it was only by proximity. But I didn't know how to tell him that, so, not knowing what else to do, or maybe just because his friendship really is important to me, no matter how much I like to pretend I've never needed any friends, I sat down and put my arm around him.

"So we're both jackasses," I said.

"Yeah, well, what do we do about it now?" he asked. I didn't know, and I didn't pretend to. We'd both had enough of pretending at that point.

Hi. I'm Roy. I'm eighteen years old and I'm a monster.

Well, what do I do about it now?

_Step Two: We came to believe that a __Power__ greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity._

We've been hiding here nearly a week, and in that time I have barely fucking slept. I am on my fifth cup of coffee, the only thing keeping me coherent, as I stare out the window, in the middle of the night while both Jade and Emma are asleep. It seems pitch black out there, but it is a big city, the kind where it's never really pitch black, so I guess that's just my imagination.

I want a smoke.

_Step Three: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of __God __as we understood Him__._

I've never really liked the twelve-steps. Too much talk about a God I don't believe in and they go on about it not being about Christianity, about how it's about what _you_ believe in, whatever that is. But what about when you don't believe in anything?

Emma wakes up first- she hasn't been sleeping much either- and the two of us go to the hotel's buffet for breakfast as soon as it open. It's been our routine, we're so predictable about it one of the waitresses knows our names. I don't know hers, though, because whenever I look at her the only face I see is Haylee's.

Em, as usual, eats like half her body weight in one sitting. "Roy, I've been thinking," she says, seriously, but between mouthfuls of pancakes so girlishly coated in whipped cream and powdered sugar that it makes her seriousness less weighty.

"A dangerous pastime," I reply. I'm pretty sure I got that from _Beauty and the Beast_. I guess there's something appropriate about that. "What about?"

"Heather and Evelyn," she answers. "About how they don't know." She doesn't have to say what it is they don't know about.

"They could know," I say. "I wouldn't put it past Heather."

"But they still don't know what we're gonna do about."

"Em, _we_ still don't know what we're gonna do about it."

She bites her lip. "No. But once we do. Do we tell them?"

And there's the thing. She defects to me. She expects me to know how to handle this. Strong and smart and brave as she is she needs _me_ to be in charge.

I'm their fucking _leader_.

I don't envy Karen. I don't envy Dick or Clark Kent or whoever is fucking in charge of whatever. I did not ask to hold other people's lives in my hands. I can barely keep from breaking my own half the time.

"Depends on what we decide to do" I answer, calm as I can. "If we turn her in… Yeah, yeah we should let them know, give them the chance to… Help us, if they want."

"So we're turning her in, then?"

Emma's eyes are wide, half-hidden by the thick bangs that have just gotten longer and scruffier in the months I've known her. My own hair hangs in heavy in my eyes. I haven't had it cut since I left Steel.

I take a sip of my coffee, bitter and black. "I didn't say that."

_Step Four: Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves._

Emma leaves to go to the bathroom, leaving me sitting alone in the restaurant. It's your typical Hilton breakfast buffet, none of the fake southwestern crap so many of the places in this city put on. Good. I'm fucking sick of fake. I'm sick of this whole goddamn city. The way dust gets stuck in your throat whenever you breathe, like cigarette smoke, the heat that never lets up and the way you can't escape the damn history. Is swear, every time I walk down the street I hear the echoes of gunshots, leftover from some old universe that couldn't possibly have really existed the way it did in the movies. This town ain't big enough for the two of us, me and my shadow.

It's just a fluorescent-lit, generic looking dining room. I could be in any hotel in any city in the world. I could be anyone.

Maybe that's the answer. Maybe we should run away, change our names. No one will ever know what we did. Never know that I got one innocent girl murdered and taught another to _be_ a murderer and never know just what _I_ am.

Fuckin' fugitives. '05 Bonnie and Clyde. Humbert Humbert and Lolita.

I never asked for this. I never fucking asked for any of this, it's not what I fucking wanted. I didn't mean to drag any of them into something this deep and fucking hell how is it that I let this happen? How did I get so obsessed with a girl that I wound up destroying lives because of it?

All I want is to protect Jade. Keep her safe, make her happy. Love her. All I want is to love her. All I ever wanted, when I made the goddamn fucking decision to look for her, was to love her.

I didn't meant to do this to her. If I'd known I'd ruin her life too maybe I wouldn't have come here. I'm a terrible fucking excuse for a boyfriend, for a superhero, for a fucking human being.

Lauren always used to say that there's no such thing as bad people. Just people who make mistakes.

Well screw it, Lauren. I know what I'm capable of.

I stare out the window, into the fucking desert. I want a smoke.

No, scratch that.

I want a fucking _hit_.

_Step Five: Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs._

Jade is barely awake, rubbing her eyes and beautiful in the sunlight, when we get back to the room. I leave the tea and pastries I brought her on the nightstand, before sitting on the bed, resting myself nearly on top of her as I kiss her hot and deep. She is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

Her breath is hot in my mouth and I can actually feel something, something other than… I want to pull her nightgown off and bang her here and now and I would if Emma weren't watching.

"Good morning to you too," Jade giggles. "And thanks for breakfast!" She grabs for the pastries on the table and starts scarfing them down, like she's Emma or something.

"Geez, you'd think you hadn't eaten in days," I say. She giggles again, blushing.

"I'm just really hungry." There's powdered sugar on her lips and I lick it off.

"Your phone was beeping," she tells me. That's probably not a good sign. I pick it up, check the messages, expecting them to be from Magdalena. They're not. They're from Karen. She's yelling at me, nothing she hadn't already said in her email, but somehow it's worse hearing it out loud.

"Shit," I murmur.

"What?" Emma asks, eyebrows furrowed. Jade doesn't say anything, just looks at me, wide-eyed like a scared kitten.

"Titans," I answer. "I think they're getting serious about this coming after us thing." There's a beat, a second of silence thick as carbon monoxide in the air.

"So we need a plan then," Emma decides. "We can't hide here forever."

Which really means _I_ need to come up with a plan. This is _my_ damn responsibility.

I need information. Anything I can get. I reach into my wallet and grab a ten dollar bill, which I toss at Emma. "Get any newspaper you can find," I tell her. She nods and slips out of the room.

Jade rests a hand against my shoulder, soft where my muscles are tense. "Roy-"

"Don't," I interrupt. "Whatever you're about to say, to make me… Feel better, just… "

"You don't have to-"

"But I do!" I snap. "I do_ have to_, Jade! I started this and _I_ have to stop it, I have to because _no one else can_, and…" My teeth are bared and I'm practically shouting.

Why can't I damn control myself? Why can't I fucking…

I kiss her, right on her blood-red lips. I want her. I want to be inside of her, right now. It's the only thing, the only…

I thrust my tongue into her mouth, kiss her until she's gasping for air and then I rip at her nightgown with my teeth and…

"Roy!"

Oh, god. God, not again, I…

"I'm sorry," I whisper, the words coming up with all the consistency of vomit. "I'm sorry, I keep… I… I told you, Jade, I'm a monster, just…You should just forget about me and…"

"No!" she says, voice shaking, tears blurry in her eyes. I bite my lip. I hate making her cry. "No, don't even say that, I could never… I don't _want_ to… Roy, I'm just so scared for you. I don't know how to help you and I'm so…"

"It's the only time I feel anything," I say. "When I'm touching you, it's, it's the only time I feel _anything_, anything other than…"

My lip starts to bleed.

And I don't even feel any pain.

"Other than self-loathing."

Jade makes a soft little whimper in the back of her throat. "Your lip-"

"It doesn't hurt."

She reaches out, lightly touching her finger to my mouth and it stains her skin red. That's all I do, isn't it? Splatter red everywhere I go, a butcher who can't get his hands to stop smelling like raw meat.

" Roy," she whispers, "you are _not_ a bad person."

"How?" I ask, glaring, angry, at nothing in particular except myself. "How am I not? Jade, I am capable of murder."

"You didn't kill him," she says, her hand much too delicate where it rests against the side of my face. She is soft and fragile and I am breaking her.

"But I wanted to," I say, and there are tears in my eyes.

"Roy…"

The look in her eyes is so beautiful, so damn sympathetic, kindness I don't deserve, and that's when I start crying.

"He was a rapist," I say. The tears and the words pour out at the same time, like blood from a wound, picking the scab just to stop the itch. "He hurt you and he would have hurt you more and in my mind that _justifies_ it. The truth is I _hope_ Heather's drug did him in because that _bastard_ deserved to die and I don't know if I feel worse about the fact that I could have killed him or the fact that I _didn't_ and that's what scares me. I'm not just _capable_ of murder, Jade. Part of me _wishes_ I had killed him."

I can't look at her. I hang my head.

"And I don't think I have felt bad about it if I did. Magdalena was right about me. I could be a villain. Easy. How do I go on calling myself a hero with that knowledge?"

She rests her head on my lap. "Magdalena was right about both of us," she says, her voice softly. One more thing in my life that seems it could just shatter at any moment.

"So what do we do?" I ask. Everyone keeps asking me that, all damn week. I don't like being the one to say it.

She leans up, kisses me on the lips, tasting the blood away. "I love you," she says.

It's the best answer anyone's come up with all damn week.

_ Step Six: We're entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of __character__._

Emma returns, carrying a couple newspapers. "What's the latest?" I ask, stroking Jade's hair as she lays on my lap.

"They've identified everyone but me. And it doesn't look like they know about Magdalena," she says, dropping the paper on the table beside me. "There a photo."

I look it over. The photo- Evelyn, Heather, me, Emma, side-by-side and in costume on a dark-lit street- must have been taken sometime before Haylee died, though I can't tell exactly one. Magdalena had us on a lot of us jobs. _The "Wonderland Gang"-_, reads the caption, _Garnet Gasher, Mercury Lace, Jabberwock and an as-yet-unidentified preteen female- have been linked to many crimes throughout the Santa Fe area. Their motives are as yet unknown._

"Good," I say. "We can work with that."

"'Work with it'?" Emma repeats. "You have a plan?"

I bite my lip, where the cut is. "Getting there."

"Plan" is an overstatement. I don't have a plan.

But I think I might just a death wish.

_Step Seven: Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings._

Here's the thing about the twelve steps, the reason I can never quite bring myself to subscribe to them. It doesn't bother me that they talk about God. That works for some people, and good for them. Sometimes I envy people who can believe in God. Must make things… Better, having hope that there's something out there.

No. What bothers me about the twelve steps is this: they say that, no matter what mistake's you've made, no matter how terrible of a person you may have become, God can just take that all away.

And I don't accept that. I don't _want_ that.

Even if there is a God, no one can just make it go away. When I hit rock bottom, it is no one else's job to get me out.

It's _mine_.

Whatever monster I become, that is my own doing. And being a better person- recovering from addiction- isn't about asking some magic power to just make that monster go away. My flaws are a part of _me_, and being a better person isn't about having some magic power take them away. It's about knowing what they are, and having the guts to responsibility for them. I don't want God to "remove my shortcomings". Because it's _my_ job to be the best person I can.

I created the Jabberwock. And I'm the only one who can slay him.

I know what I'm capable of.

And I know what that means I have to do.

_Step Eight: Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make __amends__ to them all._

I decide to sit outside when I do it. I always sit outside when I do this step.

I find a café that's close to empty, take a seat at their patio. The ground is laid with clay bricks, colored, set in a pattern. It's Native American, but I don't recognize it. It's not Navajo, not my tribe.

I have four calls to make. The first is a number I know by heart. The second and third are already in my contacts list. These are the calls I am dreading the most, but as much I don't want to admit, the truth is I owe Jinx Tudor, Wally West and Dick Grayson one hell of an explanation. The last number was written down on the back of the photograph in Haylee's wallet. I just hope it's the right one.

The air is hot and dry and it tastes like sand, and sitting a few feet away from me is some kind of lizard, brown, almost camouflaged into the ground. He sits in the sun. Cold blooded. No matter how hard he tries, he'll never make himself warm.

_Step Nine: Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others._

The hardest person to apologize to was Dinah.

Danny and Alec were easy, Danny because he's my friend, and Alec because he was still using and _wasn'_t my friend anymore. Talking to him, I didn't have anything to lose. Sam wasn't so bad either. Danny and I talked to him together and he was nice enough not to rub in our faces the fact that he'd made better choices than us. I wrote Frankie and her mother a letter. I asked the school to send it to them, because she hadn't left me an address, and I never heard back, which wasn't a surprise. But I tried. Hopefully she at least read it, didn't just rip it up at throw it away. Because I really am sorry about what how much I hurt her, and I really am thankful that she called 911 that night.

I thought apologizing to Ollie would be harder than it was. But he told me that he understood, that he didn't think I was a bad person because of what I'd done. He said he felt guilty too, for not being a better guardian, for not setting a better example. It didn't fix our relationship, not completely. But it helped. I guess we're more similar than we'd like to admit.

With Dinah, though, I didn't know where to begin.

We sat outside, at some trendy little café in Pasadena. She bought me an ice tea and I read from a pre-written note. Still know it by heart: "I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble. I'm sorry for making you worry and for scaring you. I'm sorry for putting stress on your relationship with Ollie and making it difficult for you to do your job, both as a florist and as a superhero. I'm sorry for calling you a bitch, and that other word Ollie told me not to repeat. I'm sorry for lying to you and sneaking around behind your back and stealing your money. I'm sorry for rejecting you when all you wanted was to help me. Most of all I'm sorry for hurting you. I never meant to. I hope you can forgive me for what I've become and for the pain I caused you, and I hope we can move on from here."

The thing was, I didn't mean it. Not completely. I felt bad that I'd hurt her, sure, but I didn't really care if she ever forgave me. And we both knew that. Because for some stupid selfish reason, even though she had done nothing but try to love me, I _still_ resented her. I still _resent_ her. And I don't know if we can ever move on from there.

_Step Ten: Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it._

The truth is, I am really, really fucking _white_.

Doesn't matter that my first language was Najavo or that the man I call my father was a widely respected medicine chief I cannot change the color of my skin or make of my DNA. I'll never know exactly what I am- I've always assumed I'm English, from my last name, maybe Irish or Scottish from my coloring- but I know that, not matter much I want to believe otherwise, no matter how I think of myself, no one else will ever see me as truly, completely Navajo. And they will be correct.

When I was a kid I was too white to fit in. They called me Wonder Bread and picked me last in gym. That's how I got into archery. Wasn't a team sport, didn't have to wait to get picked. And it got my rage out.

When I moved to Pasadena, I told everyone at school I was from Phoenix. Which was ridiculous, because Tuba City is all the way on the other side of Arizona and I'd been to Phoenix maybe twice. But nobody ever questioned it, and that was fine with me. I didn't want to explain who I was. Since then, the only people I've told I think of myself as Navajo are Danny, my shrink and a couple of folks in rehab, Lauren, and now Jade. To everyone I just… Don't bother. I just put on another skin. Maybe Brave Bow would be ashamed of me, denying my culture like that. Or maybe it was never my culture to deny.

I was nine years old the day I left Arizona, and I learned that day that I can slip out of my identity, easy as a lizard slithering out of its skin

There is a lizard, sitting a few feet away from me.

Some people are afraid of lizards. Think they look like dragons, monsters to be slain.

_I_ think that, if that stupid lizard keeps sitting out in the open like that, the exact same damn shade of brown as that damn Native American brick pattern, someone is going to step on him.

_Step Eleven: Sought through __prayer__ and __meditation__ to improve our conscious contact with God __as we understood Him__, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out._

The sun beats down, and I notice for the first time just how tan I've gotten since I've been here. I am brown, brown enough you could almost believe I am actually Navajo, and covered in sunburns that flake off when I scratch them.

Well, alright then.

Time to shed my skin.

I pick up my phone, and to my surprise, my hands, rubbed raw and bitten nails with no tobacco underneath them, still look like my own.

And I dial.

"Hello?"

Karen. I figured she'd be the one to answer.

"I…" I try to speak but the words don't come out.

"Roy? Roy, is that you? Roy?"

I swallow, hard.

_ Step Twelve: Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to addicts, and to practice these principles in all our affairs._

"I need to report a murder."

_In this farewell  
There's no blood  
There's no alibi  
'Cause I've drawn regret  
From the truth  
Of a thousand lies_

_So let mercy come_  
_And wash away_  
_What I've done_

_I'll face myself_  
_To cross out what I've become_  
_Erase myself_  
_And let go of what I've done_

* * *

Author's Notes:

Sorry about the delay, finals got in my way. But now I'm on break for a whole month so you guys have me all to yourselves and you'll get lots of updates XP.

So obviously there's a lot of internal monologue in this chapter. Because this is what's goin' on in Roy's head. This is a day- just a couple of hours, really- in his life as he makes an incredibly difficult decision. And as he struggles with himself. The truth is he's got a lot of self-loathing, regarding his drug use and his more recent actions and just in general, and this is it just pouring out. Like the last chapter, I wanted to "frame" this chapter, in this case with the twelve steps. Because I think Roy is thinking of what happened in the same way he things of his addiction: he's recovering. He can be recovering. But it'll never be gone.

I took a psychology course this semester- just your basic psych 101 lecture, nothin' special- and one of the more interesting classes in the course was the one where the professor basically went on an hour-long tangent about the Milgram obedience experiment. For those of you who don't know, basically, the Milrgram obidience studies, which were done around the 50s, where basically intended to figure out why people went along with the Holocaust- say, why low-level soliders obeyed when they were told to start the gas chambers. The study had participants, who believed they were in a study on discipline in education, ask another person (who they were told was another participant, but was actually an actor) questions, and when they got the questions wrong, they "gave" the person a (fake, but the participants believed it was real) electric shock. The shocks increased until the person was (pretending to be) in extreme pain, screaming. Then eventually the shocks get high and they stop screaming, as though they've had a heart attack. The idea was to see under what circumstances would people go all the way the through with the shocks, and the results were that the majority of people, even though they didn't necessarily want to or feel okay about it, _would_ obey when the experiment (who said stuff like "the experiment requires you continue" when the participants resisted) told them to keep going. (The main point, which is a bit beside my point, but I don't want to misrepresent this experiment since it's pretty weighty stuff, was that it's not the _kind of person_, but the _situation_ they're in that they're in that causes them to obey when told to do horrific things. There were a lot of factors that were changed in the situation of the experiment that affected what people did, but in the basic set up, most people went all the way through, again, not because of something in their character, but because of something in the situation.)

Anyway, the reason I'm telling you guys this is because, today, this experiment would be considered unethical for a lot of reason, including the possibility that it would cause long-term stress or mental/emotional damage for the participants. Because even though no one was actually harmed, many of the participants would walk away knowing that, at least under some circumstances, they would be capable of going through with these horrific actions. And it's not clear whether _knowing that_ about themselves would end up tormenting them. And that's where Roy's at. He knows, all of a sudden, exactly what he's capable of. At least under some circumstances, Roy could kill. And now he knows that and he has to live with it and it is tormenting him.

But- and this is where Roy is strong- he does manage to stop himself. Roy is capable of horrific things, whether it's drug addiction or the slippery-slope that leads you to become The Joker, but he recognizes that. He _tries_ to be a good person, even though, or maybe because, he knows he could be otherwise. That's what makes him a hero, that he chooses to be one. He doesn't quite get that. But Jade does. Because they see the best in each other.

Um, I guess that's it. XD And just in case I don't get another chance to say it: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Winter Solstice, Happy –insert winter holiday of choice here-, and Happy New Year! I heart you guys and I hope you're all having an amazing holiday season! :)

Title and lyrics from "What I've Done" by Linkin Park.


	23. Baby, You Wouldn't Last a Minute

Baby, You Wouldn't Last A Minute on the Creek

_Jade_

We've been at the hotel maybe two weeks when it happens.

I wake up one morning sick to my stomach and by the time I get to the bathroom and start throwing up I have a pretty good idea of what's going on.

"Oh, my god," I say, to no one in particular and because I don't know how else to react. This can't be…

Roy's not around. He's been getting up early in the mornings the last couple of days. I'm not sure what he's doing but I'm sure it's important. I trust him. What does that say about me?

Emma's asleep, which is good, because it means I can slip out of the room unnoticed. I throw a sweater on over my nightgown but I forget to put on shoes.

Even at seven in the morning it's steaming hot and the pavement burns at the soles of my feet. Thankfully it doesn't take me long to find a drug store, to buy…

Oh, my god.

Back at the hotel and in the bathroom and I'm too scared to do it. My stomach's full of butteflies and I think I might throw up again and I want to cry and I wish Roy were here. God, what is he going to say? When… If…

Oh, my god.

Five mintues. I don't know how to wait five minutes, not without bursting into tears. I try to remember the last time I had my period. It was after… After I… After Roy and I went exclusive.

That's sugar-coating it. I can't even bring myself to say what really happened. Pathetic.

I can hear the door open. "Hey, Em, where's Jade?" His voice makes my heart skip a beat, like a music note, another butterfly. I can't open the bathroom. Can't even make a noise. This usually only happens to me when I have my mask on. I forget how to talk. Like I forget how to be human. Like I turn into a goddamn animal. Alice has seen a cat without a grin but never a grin without a cat. Well, now I'm a cat without a voice.

I turn the shower on so they won't suspect anything's… Unusual. And then five minutes are up. God, how did this happen? I mean, I know how it… It's not like we were exactly careful about using protection, not after… And at least I know it… It would be… His. I mean, if… Because the last time I had my period was after I stopped… so if…

If. It's not an if. It's a yes or a no and I can't even make myself look… I know the answer. I know what it's going to say. I know that it's…

I look.

Positive.

I set it down and I step into the shower. I don't even cry. Instead I just curl up as small as I can make myself, folding my hands over my stomach. I want to shrink. I want to fade out of existence without even a grin to leave behind.

* * *

"Morning," I say, stepping out of the bathroom. Pretending like nothing's wrong. I'm wrapped in just a towel, clutching tight against my stomach. I've never felt this self-conscious.

"Breakfast?" Emma says, holding up a Starbucks cup. My stomach grumbles and I'm not sure if I'm hungry or if I'm going to throw up again.

"I'm fine," I say. I open up the closet and pick out a dress- lavender, empire waisted so it's loose in the front.

Roy wraps his arms around me before I can go back to the bathroom to change. "I got a surprise for you," he says. His hands are on my… He doesn't know.

God, how am I going to tell him?

"What is it?" I ask, trying to sound chipper. He pulls two slivers of paper out of his pocket, holds them like a folding fan. I squint at the text- Aspen Santa Fe Ballet Company. Swan Lake.

I bring a hand to my mouth. "Ohmigod…"

"I wanted to do something special for you, and I know how much you like ballet, so…" I can't believe he'd do that for me. It must have cost him a fortune.

"I…" My throat is so sore, from fear or maybe just from vomiting. "I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll go?"

"Of course," I whisper. "I just… Thank you."

He smiles. "Don't mention it," he says. He blushes, and it is a sort of vulnerability he rarely lets show. I am suddenly painfully aware of the fact that I am hiding something from him.

I mean, I am, aren't I? I guess it could be… Could be a false positive. It's not, I know it's not, but…

It's been an hour. I can't even admit what… It's only been an hour. I need to get out of here, clear my head, think about… About what to do next.

Roy kisses my neck, his lips burning hotter than the sun. They brush up against the chain of my necklace and I wonder if the metal might melt. "You alright, babe? You're quiet."

"I'm fine," I say, again, the same lie. The same Cheshire-cat grin. "I just… Think maybe I should get my nails done, before we go somewhere so nice."

He moves his lips to my mouth, dragging his tongue against my skin, like striking a match. I feel small and cold in his arms and I just want to bury my face in his chest and cry but I am scared. I am so scared.

I am always so scared.

"Anything for you," he says, his breath going into my mouth and filling my lungs. Sometimes I think he's the only that keeps me breathing.

* * *

I like getting my nails done. Makes me feel pretty. Is that just some stupid girl thing? I care an awful lot about the way I look for someone who spends most of her time behind a mask.

Still, it's nice. Relaxing. Gives me some time in my own head. I guess I need that right now. I pick out a color- red, something he'll like, and sit down in the pedicure, chair with a magazine I don't plan to read and I just… Think.

So he paid.

He paid for me to get a mani-pedi. Because he knows I can't even afford that myself. Which is nice of him. But it also just makes me feel…

I can't afford anything. The Sirens doesn't pay me, they _provide_ for me. Pay my rent and make sure I have enough food and sometimes if I'm good I get an allowance, buy myself a few nice things.

I've been deluding myself all these years, haven't I? It's not a job, I'm not an _employee_. I'm a caged animal. I'm a fucking _slave_.

And now he's providing for me. Paying for the hotel, buying my meals. Sometimes I fantasize about leaving the Sirens, moving somewhere far away and getting a real job and never looking back. But the thing is I know I couldn't do it. I don't know I couldn't do it. Not on my own. There's no way I could ever leave. I wouldn't have it in me.

Not without him?

I'm completely dependent on him.

Okay, fine. So Magdalena was right about me. I'm a damsel in distress. Always have been, always fucking will be.

So what do I do with that knowledge?

I'm worried about him. He really, genuinely believes his a bad person. He's not. He's _not_ a murderer. He _didn't_ go through with it. But I guess he's… Knowing that he almost did, I guess he doesn't what to do with that knowledge either.

Maybe I could do this. Maybe we could get out of here and make this work. But what if _he_ doesn't want to? I don't know if I could do this by myself. I've never been independent. Even if I wasn't a supervillain, if I was just a normal girl, I probably wouldn't be. I mean, I'm only seventeen.

I don't think I could get in touch with an adoption agency, not without giving the whole team away to the police, but… But I guess I could just go to Planned Parenthood and…

No. No, I couldn't do that. Not that I think it's wrong or anything, but I just… I couldn't. So I guess I… I guess that only leaves one option. I just have to…

Tell him.

He'll support me. Won't he? It's not like we've ever talked about… I can feel myself starting to cry. Why weren't we more careful? God I let him _fuck me_ against the side of a _building_.

"You are alright, miss?"

The manicurist has noticed that I'm crying. Her voice is sympathetic and her English broken and she looks like she's in her mid-thirties. About the age my mother would be. She used to pretend she was a manicurist, when people at my elementary asked what her job was. She was Vietnamese, so of course they believed her.

She was only eighteen when I was born. Twenty-five when she died. I remember what she looked like when she was alive, but not as well as I remember her corpse. That's stuck in me like a photograph, full-color and vivid and always the same. She had blood staining her mouth and cheeks like cheap makeup, and my tears had fallen on her skin, puddled in the hollows under her eyes. Like they were her instead.

"I'm fine, thank you," I say to the woman.

She gives me a soft smile. "Beautiful girl like you should no be crying. Should be smiling"

I smile back, as best I can, fingering the scar on my face with fingernails done redder than blood. "That's very nice of you to say."

* * *

"Your seat, gorgeous?" Roy says, a gleam in his eye as he pulls the chair out.

I can't help but giggle. Awful as I feel right now… He just makes me so happy."I really can't believe you did this for me," I say. "Thank you."

We're at some really nice Italian restaurant, the kind with red velvet seats and crisp white tablecloths and candle-light. Romantic and beautiful. I sit down and he pushes my chair in for me, a true gentleman. I'm still in my lavender dress, and… Well, in a silly way I feel like a princess.

"I thought I said not to mention it."

"Well, I want to mention it," I tell him. "Maybe you don't want to acknowledge that you're a nice person, but I do."

He blushes as he sits down. "Yeah, well, I think you're the only one who sees me that way."

"Everyone else is wrong then," I say firmly, and he smiles at me. That beautiful smile that makes his eyes sparkle, blue like aquamarines. I'm glad to see it. His eyes been far too grey lately.

"So are you excited about the show tonight?" he asks, as he opens his menu.

"Of course!" I say. "The last time I saw a ballet live was when I five. And Swan Lake's my favorite… Well, after, Nutcracker. It's just so beautiful, and…" I laugh nervously. "I'm sorry, I'm going on and on and you probably don't care…"

"Of course I care," he says. "If it's important to you, then of course I do. So what's it about?" He reaches under the table and squeezes my hand and I feel my stomach lurch.

I have to tell him. How am I going to tell him?

"Well, there's a girl," I say. I can hear the tremble in my voice and I'm not sure if he hears it too. "Her name is Odette, and she's in love with Prince Siegfried, but an evil sorcerer curses her, so she turns into a swan every day and is only a girl at night. And when Prince Siegfried realizes what happened to her, he tries to save her, but the sorcerer disguises his daughter, Odile, as Odette, and he doesn't realize _that_ until it's too late."

The candlelight reflects in Roy's eyes, orange on blue like the sun setting over

the ocean. "Does he save her?"

"In some versions," I answer.

"What happens in the others?"

"Usually at least one of them dies. Sometimes they die together. "

"Some last night on earth," he murmurs, with a long, heavy sigh. The light flickers and for half a second his eyes go dark.

"She always forgives him, though," I say. "And the dance the most beautiful duet, in their last moments together."

He lowers his head, and the shadows fall over his face so that just his eyes are still bright in the glow of the candle. "Jade, I have to tell you something."

I hand falls over my stomach. "Me too."

He half-smiles at that. "We always do seem to come back to the question game."

I try to smile back but it gets stuck somewhere in my throat, all the sweetness and bile of vomit on my tongue. "You want me to go first?"

"No, that's okay," he says. "I, uh…" He swallows, and doesn't look me in the eye.

"I called the Teen Titans last week. Reported Haylee's murder."

What? "I… I don't understand."

"We've arranged a meeting place," Roy continues. "At the barn. Sunday morning. Bumblebee'll be there with the feds, all I have to do is make sure they're all there."

I'm still not sure I follow. "They, like, Heather, Evelyn and Magdalena?"

He nods. He stares at the candle and picks at the wax on the candle, and I wonder how it doesn't sting his fingers. Or maybe it does but it just doesn't bother him.

"We're turning them in."

We're…

I don't believe this. This doesn't make any sense. He can't… "You're turning them in?"

"And going back to the Titans," he says, grimly. "Yeah. Bee thinks they can work something out, say we were double agents if they have to, so we won't have to go to jail. Job's done. We saved the fucking world."

But… No. No I can't agree to that. When I try to speak it comes out like sobs. "But… I mean… Magdalena, I mean, she should go to jail, but… But Heather and Evelyn? They're… They're just two girls on a job, Roy. They're just doing their job."

He shrugs. "Not much we can do about it."

"We could not turn them in."

He raises an eyebrow. "Jade, you can't be serious."

"I…" I think I might cry. "Don't you think we owe them a bit of loyalty?"

"They're supervillains."

"So am I!" I cry. I am actually sobbing now. "Roy, they're the _same as I am_! You can't… You can't plan to turn _them_ in and not _me,_ Roy, that's not-"

"What, so you want to go to jail? You're not like them, Jade."

"Roy, there are _reasons_ why they're in this position, we… We can just write them off as terrible people."

"They've killed people."

The candle casts shadows across his skin. I fight the tears in my eyes. "And you've been going two whole weeks saying that you're a murderer too."  
It comes out in barely a whisper. His head whips up, and when he finally looks at me his eyes are pitch black.

"You can't have it both ways, Jade!" he snaps. "You can't _insist_ that I'm _not_ a villain for two fucking weeks and then act like I shouldn't believe you. You can't _tell me_ that I'm _not_ a murderer and then expect me not differentiate between myself and people who _are_! Yeah, Jade, you _are_ a supervillain. We all are. But you said _yourself_ you wanted out, and if you want me to get you out then one of us has to make a goddamn decision and it's not like you have any idea how to do that. I am _trying_ to _save you_, Jade, but in order to do that I have to draw a line _somewhere_, and the only thing that we can _legitimately_ say that _they've_ done and we haven't is _kill_. Which is what you've been telling me for two _goddamn_ weeks, fuck, don't you think you're being just a little bit hypocritical?"

"Hypocritical?" I exclaim, standing up so fast I knock the silverware off the table and send it clattering to the floor."You want to talk about hypocritical?" Tears are streaming down my face and I don't think I've felt this angry in my life and I can't stop it and the next sentence comes out like hail pounding against the pavement, "How about the fact that you nearly kill a man because he's a rapist and yet you're nearly as sexually aggressive as he was?"

Oh my God, I cannot believe I just said that. He stands up too, slamming his fists against the table. "What the _fuck_ is that supposed to mean?"

"It means…" I don't know. I'm still crying but I don't have it in me to yell anymore. I don't know what think, I don't... "I…"  
I'm pregnant.

I can't say it. I can't tell him. Not after what I just said, not after what _he_ just said. God, am I just a plaything for him? Someone he can control? Did he think he could just tell me what to do and I'd just follow him around, fucking worship the ground he walks on?

He'd be right.

I'm like his toy. I'm his fucking _whore_.

Well, fine then. If I'm pregnant, then I guess it's time I fucking grow up and stop letting people boss me around.

"It means Magdalena was right about you," I say. The tears sting at my eyes but the words come out all the same. You don't care about anybody but yourself."

"I care about you." His voice is angry but his eyes are… I look away.

"No," I say. "You care about looking like a hero by saving the girl."

And I start to walk.

"Jade, what…" he says. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making my own decisions."

"Jade-"

"It's _Cheshire_!" I exclaim, whirling around to look him in the goddamn eyes.

He's crying, his eyes clear as glass.

Too late. I've made my decision. I rip my necklace off and I throw it at his feet. "You're a hero. Well, heroes don't call villains by their names."

I'm crying too. I turn around.

And I walk away.

Disappearing, fast as the Cheshire cat.

_Let's just stop,_  
_drop everything,_  
_(forget each other's names) forget each other's names,_  
_And just walk away._

_Turn around and head in different directions,_  
_Like we never, it's like we never knew each other at all._  
_We said what we feel, then we stop ourselves,_  
_And just walk away._  
_Never looking back,_  
_Loving every second of it,_  
_we just walk away._

_This is probably the best,_  
_not to mention the worst idea,_  
_that I have ever had._

* * *

Author's notes:

Sorry for the delay. I was actually having some plot issues with this story and I couldn't continue until I worked them out. But I figured it out now, so I should update quicker. Super special thanks to my bestie for her awesome suggestions and for listening to me ramble on about this for _two straight hours_. You are amazing, I don't deeeseeerrrve youuu. XD XD

Anyway, yeah. Jade's pregnant. For those of you who don't know, Roy and Jade have a kid in the comics, Lian (or had; they killed her off sometime like last year, and I don't know exactly what the story is now that the whole DC line has been rebooted). A couple of you have been asking about whether I was going to use Lian and I've just been like "I dunno, maybe, not sure yet". Um, I lied. XD I have known this was coming the whole time. Honestly, I'm surprised at how few of you asked and at how long it took you to start asking, I really thought it was more obvious that was where I was headed with this. XD

So the other thing I was kind of surprised no one mentioned was that's Roy is… Being kind of creepy. My friend is the only person who mentioned it, and she was kind of like "I don't like him anymore, he's creepy." And I'm kind of surprised that more of you didn't call me out on that, because… Yeah, no, he is. He's being kind of a jackass. That's a little bit the point. But I'm also glad that you guys didn't just start hating on him. Because I do hope he's still sympathetic. He's not supposed to be the bad guy. Like, yeah, some of behavior is pretty inexcusable. But he's also in a really, really awful situation and that's taking a huge emotional toll on him. He's stressed beyond belief and really traumatized and in an intense state of self-loathing. He legitimately thinks he's a bad person. But within those parameter he is _trying_ to do what's right. He's really, really trying. So I'm glad you guys aren't completely turning on him. He's flawed, but not supposed to be evil. Just human.

As for Jade, I guess this is sort of her "character arc". She's trying really hard to stand on her own two feet and she's… Maybe not choosing the best way to assert her independence? But she's seventeen and she just found out she's pregnant and that's not an easy situation either and of course she's not going to deal with that perfectly. In regards to their fight, I think they're both equally right. Like, they're both being kind of awful to each other, but they also both make some really valid points. So they're both intended to be equally sympathetic in regards to their fight; I didn't want either of them to come out seeming like the bad guy.

Title and lyrics from "Baby, You Wouldn't Last a Minute On the Creek" by Chiodos. I was actually listening to the acoustic version while I was writing this, but either way. I also almost went with "White Horse" by Taylor Swift but I decided on "Baby You Wouldn't" instead because I though "White Horse", while quite accurate to how Jade is feeling, would seem too unsympathetic to Roy, and because "Baby You Wouldn't" was one of the three original songs I had in mind for this story. I was (for reasons I'll explain later, since I don't want to give anything away XD) thinking that none of the three would end up being able to make an appearance, and I was a little disappointed about that. So once I realized "Baby You Wouldn't" still worked, I decided to go with it.

Wow, these notes got long. Sorry. XD


	24. The Necklace of Marie Antoinette

The Necklace of Marie Antoinette

_ Roy_

There is a Navajo legend, about men who can steal the faces of the dead.

They're called "skinwalkers". They're something like a cross between werewolves and witches, capable of powerful, evil magic that allows them to become their kills. Human or animal, it doesn't matter. They just skin you alive and then drape the flesh around their back and then they _become_ you.

I've been saying I'm a monster for weeks. Well, now I guess I know what kind. Because here I was thinking _Speedy_ was gone, thinking some beast had taken me over, poisoned me like a drug in my veins, seeping into the marrow of bones until I'm nothing but a hollow shell without it. And yet here I am now, going back to the Titans. A fucking hero again. Like I'm just becoming someone else.

I can't believe she…

Somehow I find my way to the saloon, in the pitch-black middle of the night. Evelyn had hidden Haylee's body in the freezer, and the building's a police zone now that I've called in to report it. I slip past the cautionary tape and pick the lock without much of a problem. I forget where I learned to do that.

I sit down at the bar without bothering to turn the lights on. The room is musky with dust- no one's been here in days. Glass bottles are lined up in front of a mirror on the wall in front of me, tinting my reflection a number of sickly browns and greens. The green makes me think of her eyes, and of how she looked away.

I don't understand. I wasn't trying to… It wasn't like this was easy. I don't _wan_t to turn them in. But I couldn't just let Magdalena get away with killing Haylee. And I couldn't just sit here and watch Jade suffer. I couldn't…

I hold her necklace in my hand, fingering the metal and as I do I can practically hear it hitting that marble floor, sliding into my feet like a shot from a gun. They say silver bullets are the only things that can kill a werewolf.

All I wanted was to save her.

No. that's a lie. I did this to save myself too. I did the right thing, what I thought was the right thing, the only damn thing I think to do, because I thought maybe if I did it would mean I wouldn't have to hate myself quite so much. Because I thought it would make me a hero again.

Well, it didn't work. I can never be Speedy again.

Speedy is dead, and I am just wearing his skin.

I hear a creak, the door opening, followed by footsteps and a dry laugh. "Well, fancy seeing you here." Heather.

I don't look up. "What do you want?"

She walks behind the bar, carrying both a white handbag and the silver briefcase from the train. Her high heels click with each step. She reaches for a bottle and then pulls something out of her purse- a glass flask- and then pours herself a martini.

"I had you pinned for a champagne girl," I say.

She half-smiles. "You want anything?"

"Can't," I reply. "Three years, two months, eight days." Don't know why I'm telling her the truth.

She laughs again, if you can call it that. "One year, four months, twelve days," she says. "But tonight, I'm getting drunk." She drinks, the glass catching the light like bugs in a jar, then looks at me with a smile on her face and eyes the color of ice. Jade's eye flash in my head, impossibly green.

Oh, to hell with it. "Fuck it, gimme a Coors."

She takes out a beer, starts to pour it into a glass. I stop her, take the whole bottle instead.

It goes through my throat thick as honey but it tastes more like blood. Three years, two months, and eight days, down the drain. Just like that.

I exhale and set the bottle on the counter. "Heroin," I tell her. A peace offering.

She, looks at me for a moment, seriously. Weighing the offer. And then she sits down, immediately to my left, the barstool scraping against the floorboards. "Meth."

I take a drink. "I guess there are worse ways we could be falling off the wagon, then."

"And we can stop anytime we want," she quips. "So what brings you here?"

I don't particularly want to answer that. But I do. "Jade and I got in a fight," I say.

"What about?"

I don't particularly want to answer _that_ either. "I did something rotten." And then I down maybe a third of the bottle, letting it burn.

"What about you?" I ask. "What brings you to this happy haunt?"

She swirls the flasks, like she's mixing a poison. I guess she is.

"Maybe I did something rotten too."

I look at her, closely, for the first time this evening. Her dress is white, as always, and her long blonde hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, revealing every sharp, bony angle of her face. "So meth, huh?" I guess I should have realized that, since she cooks it and all. And she looks like a meth addict, skeleton thin and dark under the eyes. Beautiful, though. Even in the dark, I can see how beautiful she is. But she's beautiful in a hard way, a frightening way. The way broken glass is beautiful.

She narrows her eyes. "You want the backstory."

I narrow my eyes right back. "I don't want much of anything right now." Except my girlfriend back.

She seems to accept that answer. "My name," she begins, "is Heather Irina Golovahka."

"Hi, Heather," I chime in, which makes her smile. God, there's something wrong about her smile. It doesn't extend to her eyes. They just sit there, cold and unchanging and bearing into you like knives.

"I'm eighteen," she continues. Her voice is a low, gravelly monotone, blank as slate, and doesn't look at me as she speaks. "My parents died when I was a baby. I was raised by my uncle on the Upper East Side, and he spoiled me rotten. I had every luxury you could imagine. All the best clothes, private schools…" she gives a wry chuckle. "My pacifiers were from Tiffany's."

"In high school I was a cheerleader. Blonde hair, fake tans, had a lot of boyfriends. Your typical bimbo. Except for one little thing."

"And what's that?" I ask.

She gives me the side-eye. "I'm cursed by my genius." She says it with a tinge of sarcasm, but it's not a joke. Not really. "I never was as dumb as I let on. Skipped two grades, got a 2400 on the SAT. I was taking college level science classes in the ninth grade, and that's where things went wrong. In tenth grade, I was working on a chemistry project when my test tubes starting dissolving. Turned out I'd accidently mixed a fairly potent acid." She sets the briefcase on top of the counter. The silver metal glints in the moonlight. "I didn't think much of it at the time, just jotted down the formula and finished my project. Completely forgot about it. Went on with my life."

"Well," she continues, her voice sour and dry like bad wine, "one day during my junior year I came home from cheerleading practice to find my uncle dead in the living room." She laughs, bitterly. "Picture me, fifteen years old, blonde pigtails, chewing my hot pink bubblegum as I stumble over the bloody corpse of the only family I've ever had while three men point guns at my head."

I take a drink of my beer. The taste gets sweeter with every swallow. "Sounds fun."  
"A real party," she says, with a smirk.

"It turned out uncle dearest was able to keep me in Chanel because he was a member of the Russian mob," she continues. "He'd discovered my notes, and was using my formula for hit jobs. Some higher up found out, decided he wanted the formula for himself, and sent his goons come fetch me." She exhales and bites her lip with too-white teeth before she continues. It figures even her teeth would be whiter than snow. "My uncle put up a fight."

"They took me to Brooklyn, introduced me to Dmitri. Their boss." She hisses as she speaks his name. "I was his prisoner about a year. Mostly I was his house servant, cleaning, fixing meals, providing..." She grimices."Services. But he also had me mixing all sorts of drugs. That's how I got hooked on meth."

"Took the pain away," I say. I set my bottle on the table and it sends up dust. "I get that."

She looks at me a second, the light casting shadows that blacken the hollows of her face. Doesn't say anything. I sip at my beer.

"So how's you get out?" I ask.

"Slipped strychnine in his dinner," she says, point-blank. "It was easy."

"Then why'd it take you so long?"

She looks at me again, tilts her head to the side, doesn't answer.

"And then you came here?" I ask. "Got clean, joined the Sirens?"

"Well," she replies, "not in that order."

"And now you do rotten things."

She slides her tongue across her lips, like a snake. "Now I do,"

I take another swallow of beer, and finger the necklace in my hand. I can't seem to let go of it, even as it feels like it's burning me, branding it's pattern into my skin. "I'm not sure Jade's ever coming back," I admit.

She nods. "Because you do rotten things too."

I finger the clasp of the Jade's locket, considering opening it, not sure why it feels like such a big decision. I guess her privacy isn't mine to invade, not anymore. "Yeah."

"Would this rotten thing have anything to do with the police coming to the stable Sunday morning?"

I can feel my eyes widen. "How do you-"

"I've got ways," she interjects, cool as ice.

I fumble with the opening of the necklace but I can't get it undone. "I didn't mean to…" I think I'm getting drunk. The sentences aren't coming out right. My thoughts are slurring and my fingers feel clumsy, dead weight. I take another drink. If I'm falling off the wagon I'm falling head first.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Heather sips at her own drink, and stares at her reflection in the glass bottles on the wall. "Yes you did," she tells me. "You wanted you to get her out of here. You wanted to be her hero."

I get the necklace open. There's a scrap of paper inside. I unfold it.

My name.

"Maybe I did."

I crumple it up in my hand.

"You know I called Haylee's boyfriend," I say, not even sure why this is coming to me now. "Told him what happened to her. He cried. Right over the fucking phone, he…" would mean she's really gone, that would mean… I drape it around my neck instead, let it hang there like an iron-wrought chain.

"He loved her. We took that away from him." Maybe that's why.

Heather swivels in her chair, turning to face me. "Evelyn'll be angry about it."

"What you did?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "What I'm about to do."

I raise an eyebrow. "I don't under-"

She sets the suitcase in my lap. The metal is cold to the touch. And suddenly I get it.

"No," I say. "I've already gotten enough people… You don't need to… I'll call them off, Heather, I'll…"

"We're killers, Roy," she snaps, and her eyes are red hot. "Evelyn and I. We've had this coming a long time. And you too, if that's how you want to see. But Emma? She still have a chance to make it out of this. If you can't do it yourself, that's fine. But do this for her. You owe her that much."

I look at the suitcase in my hands. It has a combination lock, two letters two numbers. "How do I open it?"

Her eyes cool down, and she narrows them. "Do you know what happens when you lace something with mercury?"

I narrow mine. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She just smiles. "You'll figure it out."

I dart my eyes away from her face, looking at anything but. When I get to her arms I notice, for the first time, the track marks there.

"So I guess this is it, then," I say.

"I guess so," Heather replies, her voice whispery soft once again. She picks up her flask and raises it in the air. A toast.

"All for one and one for all," she tells me, eyes glinting silver in the dark.

I raise my poison in the air and clink it against hers. And then I drink, until the end of the bottle.

* * *

I get back to the hotel around two am, kind of tipsy and feeling like shit. I can't believe I fucking went off the wagon. I'm a fucking piece of shit.

Emma's in bed, sound asleep and curled up in a ball. I stand over her, watch her whole body heave as she breaths, brush a lock of hair off her face. She seems so tiny, like a kitten. Like Jade.

Okay. Fine. I'll do this. I'll go through with it. For Emma.

It's not like I want to betray them. But I have to save the world and I guess there has to be a price on that.

And I can't stay here. If I do, I'll…

I just thought she'd understand.

I stit down on the other bed. My eyes sting. I guess I got alchohol in them. Or maybe I just don't want to admit that I want to cry about this. Jade's the only person I've ever been comfortable crying in front of. I'll do this, I will, I just wish she was doing it with me.

There's a always a goddamn catch. You say you can spin straw into gold, well you better be prepared to give up your goddamn firstborn to save your sorry ass. It's fucking Rumplestiltskin.

God, I'm even starting to sound like her.

She said she wanted to tell me something. At dinner, before she… I wonder what it was.

I'll probably never know. I hope she's okay.

I stare at the combination lock on the suitcase. What happens when you lace something with mercury? I almost laugh. Hell if I fucking know.

Karen was pretty pissed. Dick was mostly professional, stoic. When I called Titans North I got Wally on the phone. Jinx was refusing to talk to me, which I guess I should have expected. I figured Wally'd talk a mile a minute, but he didn't. He was quiet. I said my piece and he listened. And then he told me that he forgave me, but that if I ever did anything to hurt his girlfriend again, and then Jinx snatched the phone out of his hand and told me that if I ever did anything to hurt her again, Wally would still forgive me, because that's the kind of person he is, but that if I ever did anything to hurt _him_, I wouldn't get off with just a warning. And then she slammed the phone down.

Two letters, two numbers… Like a, a chemical formula? I don't remember shit about chemistry.

None of them said it, in so many words, but I know they all think I'm a monster.

Jade practically called me a rapist.

Not in so many words. Didn't have to be.

In that moment, when she looked at me with that much fury in her eyes and told me that I'd hurt her…

I don't think I've ever hated myself more.

Poison. You lace a drink with mercury and whatever sucker you get to take it drops _dead_. It's a poison, it's…

Of course.

The periodic table. Every element has two letters and a number. Mercury is… Shit, I don't know. I dig through the books in Jade's suitcase, wondering if maybe there's a copy of the periodic table somewhere. Just _Alice in Wonderland_ and _A Little Princess_ and I keep seeing her face and…

I buy myself some time on the computer in the lobby and I look it up. Mercury. Hg 80.

Two letters two numbers. Perfect.

The receptionist is looking at me like I'm a creep, so I slip out to the side of the pool. It's deserted, and the water is still and the air dry and empty. The stars pulsate like bubbles in cheap champagne and I am totally wasted. I turn the combination.

H-G-8-0.

The lock clicks undone.

And I open the suitcase.

And it is filled to the brim with methamphetamine.

There's a loaded syringe, right on top. I pick it up, turn in my hands, watch the plastic reflect the light.

There is a Navajo legend about monsters who can steal the faces of the dead. To kill a skinwalker, you must realize who they really are, and call them by their name.

Jade's necklace, with my name written in her whispery cursive on that tiny scrap of paper inside, sits on my skin, feeling hot as hell as heart beats against it. Her face lingers in my mind like a hangover, the look in her eyes puncturing me like a knife in my heart, a needle in my veins.

Needle in my veins.

Well, who's it gonna hurt?

_I fear for your soul (as you sow, you shall reap)  
I know me, I'm so low (as you sow, you shall reap)  
I spread the soul poison quietly  
I make him think that he wanted it from me  
I make it seem like I'm innocent  
This disease will feel like solidarity  
I know me_

* * *

Author's Notes:

Guess what? I still can't talk about Heather yet. XD

I keep saying I'll get to her, and I will, but… I can't just yet. XD But I will point you in the direction of chapter 9, and remind you that the reader actually a bit more about Heather than the other characters. Heather is pulling a lot more strings than even Magdalena and Roy have been giving her credit for. And I'll also remind you that they three of them are an even match. They're playing a three-way game of chess. Mag's black, Roy's red, Heather's white.

Roy is also, continuing that metaphor XD, down to about a knight and a couple of pawns. He has just lost his queen and he is not coping so well. What Jade said to him really hit him hard, Because he thinks of himself as a terrible person, and Jade is only person who's ever made him feel like maybe he's not so worthless after all. So if _she_ thinks he's a bad person too (which she doesn't, he's kind of misinterpreting her there, but he _thinks_ she thinks that), then his self-loathing is just going to spiral out of control. Which is what's happening here.

Um I do think it's important to note that neither he nor Heather know Jade is pregnant They'd been acting very differently here if they did. Also, Lian was conceived up against the wall of the hotel in chapter 21. Just for the record. XD

Also, I like writing monologues, if you guys hadn't figured that out yet. XD And, credit where credit is too, my mom came up with the "All for one and one for all" line, and suggested Roy be drinking Coors. She hasn't read this story or anything, but somehow it came up one day that I was planning to write a scene where Roy and Heather, both knowing they are about to do something rotten, sit down for a drink and Heather makes a really ironic toast, but that I didn't know what the toast was or what Roy was drinking. So thanks to her for those suggestions. And speaking of drinks, if anyone knows the significance of both Heather's drink and Roy's comment about Heather's drink, you… May or may not win… Something. XD No promises. XD But I will be crazy impressed. XD

Title and lyrics from _The Necklace of Marie Antoinette_ by Hannah Fury.


	25. Fix You

Fix You

_Jade_

I've never actually been on an airplane.

I guess that's why I came to Santa Fe Municipal. It's not like I could afford a ticket out of here. But I guess it's nice to dream Sitting here, by the window, watching the planes take off, I can almost pretend that I'm free.

So I left him.

I walked out. I… asserted my independence, made my own decision, I…

Does that make me brave or just incredibly stupid?

I keel over until my head's in my knees and I cry.

I can't believe what I said to him. It was hypocritical and awful and god I practically called him a… I can't believe I…

I sit up and wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my dress. No. No, I… I had to do it. I couldn't betray them like that. It wouldn't be right. I've done just as many awful things as they have. And I know more than anyone that doing bad things doesn't mean that you're a bad person. That's something _I_ believe. So I have to stand up for that.

But…

Carefully, I touch my stomach with my hand. It almost hurts.

It's his.

It's his and I just left without telling him.

I don't know how I'm going to do this. I don't have any money. I don't anything but the clothes on my back. The real reason I picked the airport is just because it's open all night, and I felt more safe indoors than wandering around on the streets. There are other people wandering around, dirty and tear-stained and alone. This is where _homeless people _go, in the middle of the night when their too scared to be by themselves. I am a _homeless person_.

I think… I think he was my home. And without him, I'm…

I'm homeless.

I fight back my tears again. No. No, I can't think like. I need to be strong. Independent. For me and… And for my baby.

My baby.

I'm going to be a mom.

I guess I need… Well, I need to get a job. A real one. Maybe I could waitress, even here at the airport, just until I get enough money to get an apartment. Or a plane ticket. Yeah, I'll get the money for a plane ticket and then I'll go… Somewhere. Far away. New York. Where no one would know my name or even that I exist at all.

A plane takes off. Wouldn't it be something, to just fly away from all of this? To just disappear and watch the world fade into fog.

Even in the middle of the night the plane leaves a visible streak in the sky, white and soft like a cloud. Like the smoke from his cigarettes.

It's his baby.

Doesn't he deserve to know?

It's ridiculous, really. How when a girl gets pregnant the guy can just walk away but she doesn't have that option. What if he wants the baby and she doesn't? Isn't it just as viable for him to raise the kid on his own as it is for her to? You never hear about single teen dads. Only moms. Like guys are all nothing but deadbeats.

I'm writing him off as a deadbeat.

If I were him I'd want to know. It's not fair of me to not let him know. I can't…

Some decision I've made. I sure picked a shit time to start making decisions.

I touch my stomach again. It feels fragile, tender, different. I am carrying a human life. There is something kind of beautiful about that. I guess. There would be, anyway, if it hadn't happened like this.

I…

I guess I would have wanted a baby, years from now. I guess I figured we'd be married, have a little house somewhere, with a white picket fence like in a picture book and I wouldn't have to hurt myself or sell myself anymore and I'd be safe and happy and we'd want a kid, and, god, would I even be a good mom? I don't know how to do this. I'm only seventeen, I'm only… I'm starting to cry again.

He'd be a good dad.

I see him with Emma. He's so gentle and supportive and caring. He doesn't even realize it, just how good he is to her.

He's made some mistakes the last few weeks. I can't deny that.

But he's hurting.

And it's not fair of me to deny _that_ either.

Not just unfair to him, but to my baby. I never had a real family, a real childhood. And I can't do that to someone else. Roy deserves to know. He deserves a choice. Maybe he'll walk away, and if he does… I guess I'll be able to live with that. But I will have given him a chance. Given our _baby_ a chance.

I stand up, still crying, but it doesn't hurt so much anymore. A plane takes off outside the window, noisy distance. I wonder who's on it, where they're going.

I guess that's the beauty of making a decision. You can't go back, but you always course-correct. If you don't like where it takes you, you can always buy another plane ticket and go somewhere better.

* * *

He's not here.

Emma lies in her bed, sound asleep with the TV still on. It hums, vibrating like an insect and casting a bluish glow across her face.

Did he just not come back?

Well, I didn't either, at that. But it's four in the morning. Where could he possibly be?

His jacket is on the floor. He was here.

I pick it up and wrap it around myself, breath in his scent, leather and chocolate and cigarettes.

Something isn't right about this.

I kiss Emma on the forehead before I leave the room, closing the door as quiet as I can so not to wake her.

Where could he be?

I'm still in my lavender dress and heels, dolled up for an evening that never happened. I wander the hallways, feeling cold, inexplicably so. It's dark. Hotels at night always make me think of _The Shining_, empty and just a little too old-fashioned and something feels so off. My shadow slithers across walls as I walk and if I didn't know better I'd think it was a ghost, the sound my footsteps someone's dying wails.

Something's wrong.

I can feel it, like a sickness in my stomach.

My stomach already feels sick.

I slip into the lobby. It's just as empty as the hallways, not even a receptionist. There's a door, looking out on the pool and the moonlight makes the water look like diamonds, gleaming and glittering and sharp.

I don't understand why but I just know that something… Something wrong, there's something…

Something…

Someone's outside.

A figure, another ghostly shadow, is lying on the gravel beside the pool. Not moving. The moon seems to distort itself through the window, shifting until, for just a flicker of I second, I can just barely make out a shock of coppery hair, nearly glowing in the light.

No.

I rush outside, as fast as I can, tears beginning to trickle down my face. I fall to my knees at his side. No. No, this can't be happening. How did he…

His eyes are closed and there's something that looks like blood streaked across his bare arms and I'm not sure he's breathing. He's wearing the locket I through at his feet around his neck, and in the darkness it looks like a slit throat, a noose. A murder weapon. God, no, he can't be… Trembling, I reach for his wrist, touch a finger against it, praying for a heartbeat and…

There's a needlemark there.

Something catches my eye, another sharp glint in the moonlight. It hurts my eyes. Diamond, after all, is the hardest substance on earth.

A suitcase. Full of…

No.

No. No he couldn't have, how did he, where did he get… I'm crying so hard I can't see. How did this happen, how did…

I stand up and wipe my eyes. No. None of that matters. What matters is that he doesn't die.

He's saved my life enough times. It's my turn now.

Calmly, his jacket warm around my shoulders, I walk into the lobby and pick up the phone and I call 911.

* * *

I guess I should be more afraid of hospitals than I am of hotels. But hospitals are clean, and brightly lit and even in the middle of the night there's always people around and maybe it's full of ghost but at least they're ghosts that didn't die alone.

I'm holding one of Roy's hands in both of mine, pressing the rough skin of his fingers against my lips. His been out cold for hours now, but his hands are warm and his heartbeat is a steady tone from the moniter and the doctor's said he'd be fine, said I'd found him just in time. He's not going to die, he's not…

His eyes flutter open. They're grey today, dull like dingy metal. He looks at me, the color still drained from his face, his lips pale like his blood flow is off.

"Am I dead?" he asks, slowly, his voice gravelly and quiet. "Or is this just a nightmare? Because you can't possibly be…"

I shake my head, tears welling up in my eyes as I grip onto his hand "It's me, Roy, it's me"

His eyes narrow, like he doesn't quite know whether to believe me. I kiss him, first on the tips of his fingers and then slowly down the palm of his hand until I reach the puncture-mark on his wrist. He touches my face, brushes a lock of hair behind my ear.

"You came back."

I nod. I'm crying now but I manage to smile. "I came back."

He looks at the IV line in his arm, at the heart rate moniter, at the bloodstain on his wrist. "You shouldn't have," he tells me. "I'm a junkie, I... You were right to leave me."

"No," I say, shaking my head again. "No, I…"

"Jade, I hurt you," he says. He winces, like he's in pain. "I couldn't control myself and you almost… I almost..." He can't finish that.

"But you stopped yourself," I tell him. "Every time."  
He's crying. "Jade…"

"And anyway, you were right tonight, too," I continue. "I _was_ being hypocritical. You're hurting, Roy. You need help. And I'm not going to walk out on you because of that. I can't expect you to protect me and then not be there to protect you when you're the one who needs it. This relationship goes both ways, okay? Just… Just promise me you'll go to rehab when we get back to Steel?"

His eyes widen. "When we… You mean… You're not leaving me? You're coming back with me?

I blush, and give him a shy smile. It's such an innocent question, for once I feel like a normal girl. "If you'll take me back."

He smiles, and takes my hand in his again. "Of course."

I kiss the tears off his face. "So why'd you overdose?"

He pulls himself up, so he's looking me in the eye. "I didn't mean to. I guess I just overestimated my tolerance. All I wanted was…Was to get high. To forget the pain I was in."

I nod. "I understand," I say. "And, um… Where'd you get the drugs from?"

"Heather," he answers.

"Heather?"

"We uh… We met at the saloon. It was in the suitcase from the train." He bites his lip. "She's taking the fall for us, Jade."

My eyes widen. "She's okay with it?"

He shrugs, glances at his feet. "Yeah."

I don't understand. "Why?"

"I don't know what game she's playing, Jade, but I guess sometimes you have to make sacrifices to capture the king." He looks at me, eyes glassy with tears. "And I had to save you, didn't I?"

I'm crying too. "We had to save each other."

I look away from him, stare at my reflection in the floor. "Roy?" It comes out in barely a whisper.

"Yeah?"  
"Remember… Remember that thing I was going to tell you at dinner?"

He lifts my chin with a finger, locks his eyes onto mine. "Yeah?"

A tear drips off my cheek and splashes onto the floor. "I'm pregnant."

His eyes cloud over."You're…"

"I'm keeping it," I interrupt, talking so fast the words seem to trip over each other. "And I … You don't have to stay. I understand if you don't want to, I don't expect you to… But I thought… I thought you deserved a choice too. I didn't want to just leave and not give you a choice because if you _want _to, to, you know, then, then you should have that choice and… And what am I saying, of course you don't want to… I'm sorry, I… I should just go, or…"

Cautiously, Roy reaches a hand towards me. Towards my stomach. "Can I?"

I try to say something but it comes out as just a whimper. I nod.

He touches me, but he misses my stomach and winds up with a fist full of boob instead. His face turns bright red. "Sorry," he says, sheepishly. "The room's spinning. I think I'm still a little high."

That makes me laugh, and then I feel stupid about laughing and I burst into tears. "I thought you were going to die. I was so scared, I… I'm pregnant and alone and… And I can deal with you leaving, but if you had died I don't…"

He wraps his arms around me and kisses me. His lips are still pale but they're gentle and warm. "You're not alone, Jade. I'm not leaving you."

"You're not?"

He touches my cheek. "I'm staying. With you and the baby."

I can't think of a response so I just burst into sobs, heaving against his chest. "I thought you were going to die," I say again.

"And I thought you hated me," he whispers. I can hear that he's crying too.

This time I'm the one kissing the tears off his cheek. "I could never hate you."

"Thank you," he says. "For saving my life. For… Well, for everything."

"Thank _you_," I say. '"For everything."

He smiles, and reaches for his throat. For the… My necklace. "So do you think you might want to wear this again?"

I smile back. "I'd love to."

He places it around my neck and clasps it in place, letting his hands linger on my skin. "I love you," he says.

"I love you, too" I say. I brush the hair out of his eyes, and smile, because for once they look blue.

_I promise you that I will learn from my mistakes._

_Tears stream down your face and I…_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

* * *

Author's Notes:

I'm so so so sorry for the delay. I really don't know what happened. I've just been kind of out of sorts lately. I feel really bad about it. Sorry, everyone!

So to be honest I think this chapter is a little anti-climactic. I really wish I could have come up with a more dynamic way for Jade to find Roy, rather then just… Going back, non-dymanically? XD I dunno, I just couldn't think of anything more interesting so I just rolled with it. The exact details aren't really the important part anyway. The important part is she saves his life, that she had to be strong and that she was able to do that. I'm quite proud of her.

So this is not what was originally going to happen. Originally, the ending (um, I feel weird making this comparison now. This isn't the last chapter, guys, there's still a few more. just fyi. XD) went something like this: Roy decides to turn the girls in. He calls the Titans to set that up. He meets with Heather and gets the suitcase. He takes Jade out for a nice evening, as a sort of "last night on earth", and they have a lot of sex. Something happens regarding Emma that's still going to happen so I won't say what it is. The Titans/police/JLA/whoev come and arrest Magdalena, Heather and Evelyn. Jade, furious that he betrayed he friends, leaves. Roy goes back to the Titans, heartbroken. He figures out how to open the suitcase, discovers its's full of drugs, and shoots up, with the implication being that he would be using again for a long time. Jade, having fled for god-knows-where, discovers she's pregnant, and is heartbroken. The end. The last line was going to be "He's gone. He's really gone." This was my ending. This was going to be the ending from the moment I came up with the story. If you look through the story, you can see where I was building to this ending. I was all set to crush Roy and Jade and have fun doing it.

And then… I dunno. Something happened. I couldn't go through with it. You guys were so attached to them and I was so attached to them and my friend started squealing over Roy and I kept trying to make myself go through with the ending and… Nope. You guys wore me down. You win. XD

So after ranting about it for like two hours to my wonderful amazing friend (I heart youuu XD), I came up with this. I was really worried that there was no way to have a happy ending without it being unfortunate implications-y. I didn't want Jade to just blindly follow him back, and I didn't Roy to get off without consequences. But I think this is a happy solution. She _does _go back to him, but she doesn't just default into it, it's a conscious choice. And there are definitely consequences for him- he relapsed, he's planning to go to rehab. I think her saving his life (which was totally my friend's idea because she's the beeeessssttt XD) was the only way this could possibly have ended happily. Because yeah, he's pretty horribly flawed, but here, she's accepting him, not in spite of his flaws, but flaws and all. If that makes sense. (and that works the other way around too.) And I have to say, I am so relieved. I don't think I could've lived with myself if I had broken them up. XD It was never intended to be permanent- and some point, in a story set several years in the future or something, the would have still ended up together. It's not like Gar and Terra, who I take great delight in torturing once a year and who are not allowed to be together ever XD. No, Roy and Jade were always going to end up together, somehow. But I'm really happy to see it happen here. I just love them too much. XD

Title and lyrics from "Fix You" by Coldplay. I'm actually not 100 percent happy with this song choice (it's a gorgeous song, I'm just not convinced it's the perfect fit) but as we have previously established I am totally emo and suck at thinking of love songs XD XD.


	26. Lose Yourself

Lose Yourself

_Roy_

Sunday, five am. The sky is light and the air still.

And it's time.

I actually had to call the JLA to get it to work, but I managed to get them to let me out of the hospital for a couple of days instead of shipping me straight to rehab. I'll go after, no doubt about that.

I just needed a few more days to fix this.

The train station is surprisingly busy for so early in the morning. You'd never know this place was a crime scene just earlier this summer. People are everywhere, bustling around and talking, a peaceful sort of static that fills the room. We are just three more people here, this morning. Three ordinary people.

Jade is holding a suitcase in one hand, the other one intertwined with mine. Emma grips her violin case with both hands and looks at me, confused. "Is this like some weird training exercise or something?"

"Or something," I answer. I'm a full foot taller than her, so I have to drop to one knee to look her in the eye. But I want to be on her level when I do this.

"Em, I need you to promise me something."

She narrows her eyes. "I can't do that until I know what it is."

That makes me smile. Stubborn kid. I take two slips of paper out the pocket of my jeans and hand it to her.

"This is a train ticket to Lamy," I say, handing it to her. "And when you get there you've gotta change trains. This one'll take you all the way to Steel. Then I want you to catch a cab, and go to the address I wrote on the back of the ticket. It's in a suburb about forty minutes away. When you get there ask for Lauren. Tell her Roy said you'd be safe there."

Emma looks at the two tickets in her hands. "Safe?" Then she looks at me, and her eyes go wide. "You're turning them in," she realizes."You're turning them in and you don't want me there when you do it."

I stand up, don't answer. Judging from the look on Emma's face, I don't need to.

Jade, tears in her eyes, rests a hand on Emma's shoulder and hands her the suitcase. "I packed you clothes, books, some snacks," she says, her voice cracking. "And there's cash, in case you need anything else, and… And Steel City's not far, so we can still see you and…"

"And you're pregnant, aren't you?" Emma asks, quietly. "I heard you throwing up in the bathroom."

Jade makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a cry. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

Emma smirks at me. "First you fuck her and now you knock her up?" she quips.

"Oh, come off it, you can't just blame _me_," I quip back. "Believe me when I tell you this relationship works both ways."

"You ever do anything to hurt her and I'll kill you," she deadpans. "You know that right?"

I smile. "I appreciate that, Emma."

She looks back at the ticket. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," I tell her. "Just leave. Have a normal life." There's a loud blur of a noise, the rattling of wheels on the track.

"That's your train," I say. "You better go."

Emma bites her lip, like she's thinking.

And then she nods.

Jade hugs her, and then stands up, still crying but smiling as best she can. Emma comes over to me, presses her lips together, doesn't say anything.

"I guess this is goodbye, then," she says.

I shake my head. "Doesn't have to be. You can see us. You can do anything you want. You're free, Emma."

She drops her luggage and flings her arms around me and bursts into sobs.

"Hey," I whisper, wrapping my arms around her back. "Hey, it's okay. Nothing to be sad about. Chin up, little soldier."

She nods, and wipes her eyes as she lets go of me.

She swings her violin case over her shoulder and picks up the handle of the suitcase. "Thank you," she says. "Both of you. For everything. You, um… You guys are gonna be really good parents."

"Thank you," Jade says, softly.

"Now go," I say. "Or you'll miss your train."

Emma nods again, and turns around.

As she begins to walk away, I call out, "Oh, and Emma?"

She turns back, facing me one last time. In her powder blue dress and combat boots, her hair neat and pulled off of her face with a headband, you'd almost never guess she's the same scruffy little thing I met at the airport all those months ago. "Yeah?"

"That thing you just did?" I say. "Asking questions first, not just blindly doing what I tell you?"

She tilts her head. "What about it?"

"That's my girl."

She smiles, so bright it lights up the room. And then she turns away and fades away into the blur of people. Just another face in the crowd. Another normal girl.

I break down in tears as soon as I'm sure she can't see me.

"Roy," Jade whispers, wrapping her arms around me.

"I don't know why I'm crying," I say.

"I don't either," she replies. She's crying too.

"I guess something good came outta all this shit, huh?" I whisper, my words coming out in sobs and buried somewhere inside her hair.

"I think so," she whispers back.

And the train pulls away.

* * *

The stable is completely surrounded in police tape, yellow plastic that I'm surprised doesn't melt in the heat. It's been pretty hot here all summer but I think today's the hottest of all, one of those days when the empty air seems to tremble in front of you.

Jade is shivering anyway. I slip my arm around her waist and kiss her forehead. "We can do this," I say. I'm not sure I believe it.

"You're team is gonna freak," she whispers.

"Probably."

"You really don't have to…" she looks at the ground. "I'd understand if you don't want to…"

She's talking about the baby.

"Jade," I say, tilting her face to look me in the eyes. "Of course I want to."

There's not a doubt in my mind about it. Maybe there should be. Maybe I should be freaking out about, terrified. I mean, I'm not even nineteen for two more months. Most guys my age would cut and run from this, wouldn't they?

But… I don't know. When she told me, I was surprised, sure. And I'm scared, of course I'm scared. What if I'm a terrible dad? I don't know how to do this.

But there was never, not even for a fraction of a second, a doubt in my mind that I would be there to support her, her and whatever she chose to do. I would never even consider anything else. And if she wants to keep the baby, I'm staying. I'm being a dad. It's not even a question.

I don't know what that says about me. That I'm crazy? That I'm rushing into this? That maybe after everything I've been through maybe I'm really more like twenty-eight than eighteen because god she sure doesn't seem seventeen most of the time, which is kind of sad when you think about it because she never got a chance to be seventeen, because she pretty much had to go from seven to twenty-seven without missing a beat and maybe that's why neither of us are as freaked by this as we probably should be?

That maybe I'm not… Maybe she's right about me not being a complete monster? Because I would never even consider doing anything but staying with her and the baby and maybe… After all, she did come back to me. After everything I've done.

After I relapsed.

If someone like her would come back to someone like me after that, then…

Maybe that says something good about me.

Whatever. I don't know. Doesn't matter.

I love her.

That's what matters to me.

"I love you," I say. "And I'm going to be here for you. Both of you. I promise."

She exhales, a sigh of relief, as her whole body seems to loosen in my arms. Sometimes she seems so small. I kiss her again. I just love her so much.

So maybe a few good things came out of this, then.

And that's when the footsteps start coming.

I hear them before I see them. The sharp click of a pair of high heel, followed by the louder, faster set from a pair of Converse. Heather and Evelyn. Come to face the reaper.

"Hi, guys!" Evelyn chirps. She's in costume, save for her shoes, which are a pair of bright yellow Chucks, her sunglasses perched on top of her head. She has, as far as she knows, no reason to hide her eyes from any of us.

God.

"So what's our agenda today?" Evelyn asks. She looks around, and expression changes, as she notices something's wrong. "Where's Emma?"

Heather has a pair of white sunglasses on, obscuring her expression. She places a hand on Evelyn's shoulder. "Evelyn, there's something I need to-"

The stable gate swings open before she can finish. Magdalena enters, in her black catsuit, her face angry and streaked with a purplish bruise.

I raise an eyebrow. "What happened to you?"

"None of your business," she snaps. "Why did you call me here?"

I open my mouth, looking for a way to stall, but I don't have to, because the sirens start, and the gate swings open again.

"You're under arrest." Karen, surrounded by a bunch of police officers. I figured it'd be her.

"Arrested?" Evelyn whispers. "Honey, what's-"

Heather doesn't look at her. "Evelyn, I'll explain late-"

"No, you'll explain now," Magdalena cuts in. "He's the one with the Titans," she hisses, stabbing a finger at me. "Why aren't _you _upset about this? Are you working with his, are?"  
And then the gate opens again.

"Magdalena. We need to talk."

She whirls around, her hair cracking through the air like a whip, to stare at the gate. At the man standing in it.

He's maybe thirty, tall and dark and broad with a deep voice. I've never seen him before in my life. I don't know what he's doing here. Something about this seems…

Magdalena's eyes widen. If I didn't know better I'd think she was scared. "I… I didn't know you…"

He walks to her and slaps her hard across the face.

The bruises.

Jade gasps. Evelyn shrieks. Magdalena has tears streaming down her face.

He starts hitting on her and screaming at her in Spanish, faster than I can keep up. You owe me… Liar… Bitch… Something. She says something back, in Spanish, her voice breaking with every syllable and he pounds against her face. This time I can translate it- "I love you."

Jade looks at me. "What's is he saying?"  
"He's saying…" I listen harder, trying to put the words together.

And then, all of I sudden I realize what they mean.

Oh. My, God.

"He's her boss."

Jade's eyes widen. "What?"

"He's asking her where his drugs are, why the suitcase she gave him was empty, why… If she thought she could get away with ripping him off or…" He's actually mostly swearing at her, from what I can tell, but I edit that out, for Jade's sake. "I think she answers to him."

"Answers to…" she covers her mouth with her hand. "She's just another pawn in this. My god, she's just…"

The police have come up to us by this point. "You our contact?" one of asks me. I nod, and point my thumb towards Jade.

"She's with me. Take the rest of 'em."

They cuff Evelyn first, who by this point seems to have figured out what's happening. She puts up a fight, looking at me with enough rage to start a fire.

The go to Magadalena next. "You _bastard_," she hisses, and for the first time I notice that she has an accent. English is not her first language. "You did this to me, you…"

I tilt my head, trying to keep my cool. "Who's the guy, Mag?"

She spits at me. And then, "Someone I owe a debt to." And then she lets them cuff her and turns away, crying.

And the suitcase was…

Empty.

I turn to look at Heather.

"Those drugs you gave me…" I begin. "What's going on?"  
"She had a solid plan," Heather answers, icy cold. "But she made two mistakes. One was writing _you_ off as dumb muscle."

"And the other?" I asks.

"Same one you made."

Then the police come up behind her, and just before they can cuff her wrists she lowers her sunglasses, her ice blue eyes glinting. She smiles.

"Checkmate."

* * *

Karen came with a helicopter. After the police clear out, I pick up the suitcase we packed, slip an arm around Jade's waist. And we head for… Wherever we're going.

"Good to see you, Karen," I say. She glares at me.

"You're on probation."

"Going to rehab."

She hisses. "So I heard."

Jade sticks a hand out, gives a weak smile. "Hi, I'm Jade."

Karen doesn't respond to her, talks to me instead. "We're out of rooms."

"She'll room with me," I say.

Karen makes a face. "Just get in the damn helicopter."

Jinx, of all people is waiting inside. She takes one look at us, and her jaws drops.

"Oh my god," she says. She covers her mouth, suppressing a laugh. "You knocked her up."

Jade seems to shrink in my arms. Karen turns to Jinx and glares at her this time. "How do you know that?" Jinx just raises her eyebrows and shrugs, so Karen looks at me. Still glaring.

"That true?"

I try to think of a way to make it sound… Less like what they just said. There isn't one. "Yeah."

Karen's expression goes from confused to shocked to furious in a matter of seconds. "I don't believe this."

Jinx is actually laughing now. "Ohmigod," she says again, shaking her head. "Toni's so gonna die when she hears about-"

This time _I_ glare at her. "What the fuck is she doing her anyway?" I snap. "Couldn't you have gotten someone less-"

"Roy," Jade whispers, sounding like she might start crying again. God, this must be so tough on her. I kiss the side of her head.

"Dick was busy," Jinx says, serious, all of a sudden, answering the question I hadn't finished. "Wally had a family thing. Far as leaders go that left me and Isaiah and he makes me look nice."

I almost laugh at that. "Yeah, he kinda does."

"And anyway, I've met Chesh before," she adds, with a shrug. Trying not to make it a big deal. "We figured she might want to see a familiar face."

Jade smiles at that. "You can call me Jade."

Jinx nods. "Welcome to the team, Jade."

And the helicopter takes off, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt and sand. And Santa Fe gets smaller in the distance, until finally it fades away, like a sunset, like a last gasp of breath.

This town ain't big enough for the two of us, anymore.

* * *

It doesn't take long for Jade to unpack once we get back to Steel. And as soon as she's done I have to start packing again. Leaving for rehab in the morning. Been gone five months now, and I don't even get to stay. The pattern continues, like a chess board.

The sun's just going down as I pack up my room. I guess it's our room, now.

I like that.

I'm in front of the mirror with a pair of scissors, cutting away the hair that's grown into my eyes. Jade comes in the room, sits down on my bed. Our bed.

"Cutting your hair?" she asks, softly.

"I don't usually keep it this long," I answer.

"And you wanted to make sure things were back to normal," she says. She touches her stomach. "Or as normal as they can be."

"Yeah," I say. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

She sighs. "I don't know how I'm gonna manage here without you," she says. "I don't know anybody. Karen doesn't seem to like me very much."

I sit down next to her and pull her into a hug, my arms around her waist and my chin on her shoulder. "It'll probably just be a couple weeks. And don't worry about Karen, she's just a hardass. Garth's a good guy, though, if you need anything I'm sure he'll help you out."

She makes a soft noise in the back of her throat and looks at me, those beautiful green eyes. "I'll miss you."

I kiss her on the forehead. "I'll miss you too."

She lies down, with her head on my lap, curled up like a kitten. "Do you even understand any of what happened today?"

I shake my head. "Not even close."

"Do you think Magdalena was just following orders? This whole time?"

"I guess," I say. "I guess it'll all come out when this goes to trial."

"Do you think she was just another one?" Jade asks, suddenly. "Just another girl being taken advantage of?"

"Oh, Jade…" I don't finish that. I just kiss her instead, on the lips and as sweet as I can. She rests a hand on my face, gentle and warm.

"You know what _I_ don't get, though?" I ask, when we pull away. "Heather. What was she talking about? Mistakes, and, and chess."

Jade presses a hand to her mouth, brows furrowed. "That suitcase she gave you-"

"Was full of drugs."

"Right. But why did she give it to…" She gasps.

"What?" I ask.

"That man," Jade says, "the one who Magdalena must have been working for. He said something about not getting something she was supposed to give him?"

"He said something about an empty…"

Oh, God,

"An empty suitcase."

I look at her. "You don't think-"

Jade nods, her eyes wide. "She switched them. Heather. She-"

"She's been playing us," I finish. "The entire time. We didn't let her take the fall, we let her get away with playing _mole_. I… I can't believe that worked, it… That's insane."

Jade giggles. "Well, we're all mad here." That makes me laugh.

"That crafty _bitch_," I say.

Checkmate indeed.

_So the soap opera is told and unfolds  
I suppose it's old partner but the beat goes on  
Da da dum da dum da da_

_You better lose yourself in the music, the moment  
You own it, you better never let it go  
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow  
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo_

* * *

Author's Notes:

So first things first, let's talk about Magdalena.

I… Debated, a lot, about how much of Magdalena's story to put in. Because it's not really relevant; what matters isn't her background, but simply the fact that she is not what they thought she was. Magdalena is just another pawn. She has, the entire, been nothing more than that. The character who is made out to be the worst, the biggest monster, is in fact just another victim. So that was the point there.

But for the curious: Magdalena is an illegal immigrant from Mexico. She got mixed up in gang violence, drug and sex trafficking when she was in her early teens, and things got pretty bad. Eventually she snuck across the border with the help of her "friend" here. She's in love with him. He's aware of that, and uses it to manipulate her into doing what he wants. So yeah.

And now, after all this time (seriously, like pushing twenty chapters since I first mentioned it), it is _finally_ time we talk about Heather.

What I've said to a few of you guys before is that, basically, Heather's main thing is that she's self-serving. Heather's primary concern in herself. SHe is in this business for herself. She takes jobs that benefit her. She's not a villain because she's "evil", she's just doing it to get what she wants. Heather will do whatever she has to to get what she wants (whatever that is maybe it's money, maybe glory, or maybe just good old fashioned survival) And the truth is, Roy and Jade didn't actually have to lift. They went through all this shit for nothing. Because Heather has been playing Magdalena from the inside the entire time, months before Roy and Jade even started on this case. And it's not that Heather was so against what Mag was doing or anything. She's not doing it to save the world. She doesn't care about that at all.

It's just that Heather got a better offer.

Whoever her other boss is, whatever they offered her was better than what Magdalena offered her. Heather is in this for Heather. And that metaphoric chess game that they've been playing for chapters now? Heather just won. Crafty bitch. XD (sidenote, I think "That crafty _bitch_" is my single favorite line in this entire story. Followed by "I did something rotten" and "And it's Native _fucking_ American". And also, like, "Really, Em, that's what you're taking from this?" XD I have no idea why but I love that line.)

That said, I think it is important to note that Heather does genuinely have feelings for Evelyn. She didn't come into the relationship expecting to develop them, but she did. I'd wager Heather actually feels bad about what she just did to her. For what it's worth.

Um, I think I should say something here about Emma but I'm not sure what. I guess I just wanted that to feel bittersweet. In the original ending, Roy just sent her away, not to anywhere in particular, with the implication being that he'd never see her again. BUt I realized, as I was updating the ending, that he would have to send he somewhere where he would know she's be safe. He couldn't just leave her on her own. So it's a little less bittersweet than before, but I think it still works. And she leaves on a train because, given the title of this story, somebody had to exist stage left via train. And idk if anyone caught this, but Em's outfit in her last scene is a direct shoutout to _Alice in Wonderland_, with the powder blue dress and headaband. She's Alice, heading back up the rabbit and whole and into the real world.

God, this story has like one more chapter. It's gonna be weird to be done with it.

Title and lyrics from "Lose Yourself" by Eminem. I really wanted to use "Like Toy Soliders" for chapter 22, but with the exception of the "Tune-Ups" and "Santa Fe" (all from _Rent_), I didn't want to repeat artists, and I knew I'd want to save my Eminem song for this. So yeah. XD


	27. Ever After

Ever After

_Jade_

When I was little, I used to believe in fairy tales, magic, true love. Maybe it was just a defense mechanism, just a way for me to convince myself there was a way out, that someone, someday, would save me from the hell I was living in. And maybe I should have been looking to save myself, instead of waiting for that. But I didn't know how to do that, back then, and I believed in fairy tales because it was something I _could_ do. Because believing in something was the one thing they couldn't take from me.

I don't think I've ever felt quite as anxious as I do right now, sitting in the visitation room of the Steel City Rehabilitation Clinic. It's been two whole weeks since I've seen him. Feels like a lifetime.

Roy steps through the door, in jeans and a t-shirt and those same boots he always wears, looking the same as ever but somehow I'm stills struck by his appearance, how handsome he is. Time away from a person can do that, I guess. He smiles at me and my heart flutters.

"Hey, babe," he says. He pulls me into an embrace, kisses me and it feels like coming home. God, I've missed him.

"Hi," I say. "How are you?"

"Good," he replies. And then, "Well, better."

"Better is progress," I tell him. He just smiles and shrugs.

"And how are you?" he asks.

"I'm good," I answer. "Adjusting. It'll be easier once you're back home."

He nods. "In-patient's a minimum of four weeks, but my therapist thinks I'll get the ok to go to out-patient right after, since it was just the one relapse."

I smile. "I'm happy to hear that."

He smiles back, and touches my stomach. "And how's this little girl doing?"

I giggle. "Roy, I'm only five weeks, they won't know the gender until I'm at least four months along, maybe more."

He grins. "Well, I still say she's a girl," he insists. "And she'll look just like you."

"Mmm, I dunno, I hope she gets your hair."

He brushes a lock of hair out of my face. "Well I hope she gets those beautiful eyes."

That makes me smile. And then I kiss him again. And in a silly way it feels like a fairy tale ending.

Here's what I've learned, about fairy tale endings:

It's okay for the prince to save you.

But sometimes he needs saving too.

And Snow White and The Huntsman lived happily ever after.

_To ever ever after  
Forever could even start today  
Ever ever after  
Maybe it's just one wish away  
Your ever ever after_

* * *

Author's Notes:

My gosh, I can't believe I just finished this thing. I'm not sure how to feel. On one hand I'm proud of myself, and on the other hand it's kind of like "awww, I miss it already." XD

Um, I don't have a whole lot of say about this that I haven't said before. I always struggle to write happy endings but I think I like how this one came out. I guess it's kind of interesting that I chose to end this on a fairy tale not- I'm not really sure why I did, but there was just no other way to do it. I've been calling this a "neo-noir western superhero romance", and up until now I've mostly been referencing the noir and the western part of that. But I think I might need to add "fairy tale" to that too. It's a little of all three.

Title and lyrics from "Ever After" by Carrie Underwood. And for the curious, a few songs that were integral to the making of this story but that I never got to use (if I ever made a _Trainspotting_ mixtape of something, these would be, like, the bonus tracks XD and note that a lot of these don't really fit the story as it is anymore, because they were songs I came up with for the earlier, grittier version of the outline XD but even most of those still sort of "sound like" this story, even if the lyrics aren't perfectly fitting): "Hell on Heels" by Pistol Annies, "Mr. Colson" by Cassie Steele (one of the original three songs I came up with), "Broken" Seether featuring Amy Lee (one of the original three songs), "Like Toy Soliders" Eminem, "'97 Bonnie and Clyde" Eminem, "Demolition Lovers" My Chemical Romance, "Summer Shudder" A.F.I., "If It Means a Lot to You" A Day to Remember featuring Sierra Kustabank, "White Horse" Taylor Swift, "Ready 4 Love" Cascada, and "Because the Night", which wasn't originally by Cascada but that's the version I know.

So now that this is done I have a few oneshots to write (well, just one for sure, which is the one muddie requested, but there's a few more I'm playing with. And it you want me to write anything in particular, now's the time to ask- no gaurentees or anything, but you never know, you're idea might just spark my interest!). And after that I'm going to move on to the follow up to my Flinx fics. So if you're interested please check them out!

Lastly, I want to thank all of you guys for being super amazing! Thank you for reading, reviewing, and just supporting me in general! I'm constantly impressed by your willingness to stick with me, especially during delays. And I'm even more impressed with the genuine kindness you've all shown me when I've expressed problems in my personal life. It really does means so much me. You guys are amazing and I love you!

And special thanks to my super awesome best friend, who did all of the above mentioned things and also listened to me rant for hours on end about this. You are seriously fantastic. I love you!


End file.
